The Beast Within
by Eyes like Dawn
Summary: When a beggar named Rumpelstiltskin stumbles across and enters the Dark Castle, Belle, the Dark One, sees an interesting opportuinty in her new trinket that soons becomes more then she ever thought. Rum/Belle Role-Reversal.
1. Shelter

_A/N: Hi all you wonderful people! This is a good ole' fashion Rum/Belle role reversal that's been puttering around in my head for a loooong while. Thanks for taking the time to read and review and I hope you guys and gals enjoy! :3_

**~8~8~**

Fat droplets of glistening silver rain wept from the dark heavens to fall upon the cold hard earth with the fury of a raging river caught in the midst of heavy summer flood. Dark clouds of gray and charcoal black roiled and curled in the night air, their insides rumbling dangerously with the low thrum of thunder that resounded from their furled interior like the snores of some slumbering dragon resting upon it hoards of treasure.

Streaks of vibrant white occasionally thrashed across the drab firmament illuminating the midnight forest world for miles in its luminous glow before cascading the land back in the soggy darkness a mere second later.

Rumpelstiltskin shivered violently as he limped doggedly along the winding, deeply rutted dirt road which had been transformed into muddy sopping mire that made every aching step of his bum leg treacherously painful as he picked his way through the icy muck.

His mouth was filled with the rank taste of dust and mud that he constantly had to spit out even though more constantly flooded him with a never relenting tenacity that sought to wear him down to his very aching bones.

He couldn't count the times he'd taken a hard tumble to the filthy earth since the storm hit, just as the sun was bound for its home in the western sky, turning the cold day of early fall into a frigidly drenched night of torrents of icy drops tumbling relentlessly from the foully churning sky.

Heavy smears and thick dollops of gritty brown mud half blinded him and caked his knobby wooden crutch and his raggedly garbed body to the point where most of the time he wasn't exactly sure what was up and what was down in the swirling swampy substance that was once road. To him, it all looked the same ugly coppery brown of rich earth mingled with torrid rain.

The cripple was so exhausted from trudging stoically through the sloshing mud, he might have simply given up and slept in the wallowing mire of muck, but he wasn't positive he would ever rise up again if that happened. It might overwhelm him like a rising tide and suck him in faster than a pool of quicksand; the disgusting mud going up his nose and shoving down his mouth to still his final rapid breaths.

Not that he had anything to lose; the former spinner reminded himself dourly as a thin, hard grimace wafted upon his mud stained, cracked lips.

His dear, but bitter son had followed the path of his mother and had run away some time in the night a few months back leaving the struggling cripple with out a soul in the world. Everyone in the village knew young Baelfire did not desire to care for his cowardly father who had run away from a battle when he was younger and wounded in the leg by an ogre's stray lance that skewered his limb in a way that made the muscle and bone beneath twisted and cracked and hideously mangled as it healed how it could at a peculiar angle.

He didn't blame Bae for running off to pursue a life of his own instead of squandering the rest of his youth and strength caring for a despised, cowardly cripple, but with every thought the pain of abandonment, knowing that his only family had forsaken him, wrenched inside deeper than the pain of his twisted, deformed leg.

That left the former spinner even more alone, and left with barely a means to look after himself. He couldn't do much work meaning the lord of the manor who ruled their village banished him from his tiny hovel, leaving Rum a destitute beggar and wastrel who relied only on others pity and scraps for the pathetic life he trudged through.

Another sonorous peal of thunder crack above him, making Rum cringe as the sound defended him for a moment with its never ending pounding like the ogre war drums those many years ago.

Tongues of angry ivory lightening forked out whipping against the gray firmament, revealing for the first time something that filled the beggar with hope of a dry place to spend the night.

Some form of building loomed not very far in the murky distance, nestled amidst the forest far from the beaten path and sat behind a veil of shadowed towering oaks and maple trees that stood like guardians in front of the building.

It could have been a guards barracks and even though the spinner flinched painfully at the thought of running into any guardsmen or knights joking and huddled about charcoal braziers looking for some form of trouble, the cold and gnawing hunger had seeped through him as the rain had done his rags forced what little bravery he had, mingled thick with desperation, to prod him forward to the shadowed shelter.

As he came closer, and another lash of lighting darted vibrantly across the sky, he saw for the first time it wasn't a guard's barracks. In fact it was much bigger than anything as simple as that. What stood before him was a grand palace of gray stone and winding spires that soared to the heavens as their pennants tacked to each cresting rise fluttered valiantly through the battering wind and rain.

Half shuffling, half limping along the rain slick cobblestones and up to the towering doors, the former spinner beat his mud stained fist upon the door with what was left of his faltering strength.

"Hello!" He yelled through a cracked, accented voice that sounded puny and weak amidst the buckets of rain crashing down to earth and the mighty roar of thunder barreling across the sky.

Pounding as hard as he possibly could upon the door, he tried to make himself heard, but after a few moments gave the notion up that anything could out cry the might of the downpour and the storm that roared above the realm.

Besides for that he was beginning to realize something was a bit off. For a grand castle nestled in the middle of nowhere, where were all the guards? Even the poorest of manors had at least an armed gate watcher to shoo away the riff-raff and peasants that sought alms or bread about the threshold.

Not only did there seem not to be any guards patrolling the looming fortress, there seemed to be no one there at all. Looking up, through rain and mud smeared eyes, he could make out not even the faintest flicker of a torch in one of the towering windows, which would have been readily visible in the pitch blackness that enshrouded the land.

Putting his calloused hand upon the iron ring of the door, Rum gave it a tenuous minuscule push and was amazed to hear the heavy groan of thick timber and the shrill creak of rusted iron hinges shriek through the air as the door swung open and collided with the wall in a dull boom and a faint shift of dust tumbling to the stone that made the beggar flinch.

They, whoever the master of the castle was, didn't even leave the castle barred? The least whoever lived there could have done was place a sturdy log in the holders riveted in the inside on both sides of the door to keep intruders out. What kind of palace was this that didn't have guards or locks, the beggar pondered curiously as he hobbled down the voided blackness of corridors?

His footsteps echoed dully around him as the sound reverberated in almost an ominous beat while he limped forward. As he stopped right inside one of the many corridors, the former spinner dragged a finger upon one of the arm rests of one of the high backed chairs pushed up against a wall only to be met with the sight of a filigree of pure gold inlaid upon the plush seat that was lined with dark purple velvet. His brow furrowed in abject confusion as he rubbed the dust in-between his dirty fingers and spied more of the same luxury all coated in fine particles of age.

Everything was covered in thick layers of gray dust from what little he could see in the darkness. Perhaps some rich noble had thought the palace not suitable for their taste and had completely abandoned it, but then why hadn't the local peasant and mendicant populace stripped the citadel clean as a ravenous vulture did a slain doe?

Was there something wrong with the place? A curse? A disease? Ghosts that wailed their deathly dirge's of harrowing misfortune and wafted down the chilling corridors looking for a soul to devour?

Even though the thoughts terrified the cripple, he could see nor hear evidence of any malignance or haunting wafting through the dark chill corridors that offered him shelter from the harsh outside world of wet and cold and mud that was more real that any of his speculation.

What he did know thus far was that it was dark, but dry, and as far as he could see, he had the entire place to himself! Something akin to a strangled cry of glee at his sudden good fortune erupted from the spinner's mouth as the fact put renewed vigor to his twisted aching limb to help ferry him along the blackness.

Had he not been to joyous of his 'good fortune' and been more alert in his exhausted state he might have felt the shadowed presence drifting along the walls with the subtlety of a prowling and yet curious wolf.

Fierce lines of lightening crackled across the side frequently with its brilliant luminescence sparkling through the monolithic stained glass windows to cover the cold halls in a myriad of colors that helped aid Rumpel so that it was only minor trouble in traversing the long stony halls that seemed to wind forever in paths to nowhere. His steps along with the steady tapping of his crutch seemed almost joyous as he scuffled along.

"Where to go; what to do?" Rum asked happily aloud to combat the thick darkness all around him that he seemed to have to wade through like the muck on the road.

Kitchen, the spinner decided readily as he clambered down the stony colonnaded corridors. If all the grandness about him had been left to tarnish and disintegrate to the sands of time then whoever had lived here possibly left the coal for the stove and any food. And even if the food was spoilt he had no qualms about eating the mice and rats that devoured the remnants.

Giving himself a small nod, Rum took a turn through another dank corridor that had an open door, wondering how in the world he could possible spy out the kitchen when warm, pleasant smells suddenly wafted around him in a dance of savory delight.

Fragrances of heady, expensive tea and honey along with the permeating aroma of roasted and glazed boar drifted all around him, causing the spinners to drool and his belly to growl in sharp pangs of need.

For a moment he thought to run away, if he wasn't so pitifully desperate, being that there was evidence that at least one person inhabited the castle besides himself. But then again it could have just been a cantankerous old noble who grew irritable around people and lived alone, or even a person like himself seeking a roof and warmth for the night.

As he followed the wonderful whiffs of food that swirled about him and drifted along the musty currents of air, the mendicant hefted his crutch a faint bit tighter just in case he had to keep some one or something at bay.

It wasn't long before he spied a shaft of golden light under one of the doors where the aroma's hailed from that had made a thin line a drool brook down to his mud stained rags. Heaving a grave sigh, the spinner put his hand on the door while clutching his crutch, and gave it a timid push. "H-hello? I'm sorry I don't mean to intrude but I've lost my way." Well, that wasn't the truth Rum knew grimly. One could not exactly be lost when they had nowhere to go, but still the person who dwelled in the dark stony citadel might have pity on him.

"I'm very hungry and tired and cold and…" He paused as he warily entered the lovely gilded and warm kitchen only to see not a soul.

That fact might have bothered him a bit more than it did if his watery maple eyes did not stare at the gilded silver tray burdened with a blue and white kettle; tendrils of milky pale steam slowly twirling towards the rafters, bowls of sugar and cream, and a cup all in the same lovely decoration filled with the brown brew awaiting to be drunk. Along side that sat a whole roast boar, glistening with its own juices and a vibrant red, deliciously caramelized apple in its mouth, and most of all, the cobbler still wafting up trails of steam but smelling heavily in the mix of the other foods that concocted into one heavenly aroma.

Any thought of hermit nobles, or other beggars flew from his mind as the spinner limped forward and dug in with a relish to alleviate the sharp stabs of starvation that wrenched in his belly.

He quaffed down cup after warm cup of rich tea that brought flavors he never knew existed sparking to life in his mouth as he ripped off chunks of warm boar in one hand and dug his other in the center of the cobbler he found to his delight was blackberry and stuffing it all in his mouth as fast as he could.

A part of the beggar knew rather clearly he shouldn't be eating so voraciously, and that whoever had prepared such a sumptuous feast might be returning at any moment but he hadn't had a good meal in such a long time, it seemed like the pain in his stomach would never fully leave, but only relent mildly from what he could scrounge or beg for from day to day.

A sticky, grease slick hand dove for another cup of aromatic tea to wash down the mouthful he was rapidly chewing when the world grew frigidly cold around him forming a pit in his belly.

The beggar dropped the cup and let it tumble to the floor with a sharp crack as he felt a dark presence like the shadow of death itself slip quietly into the larder. Icy talons stole along his chilled tanned flesh making his skin prickle and fear to slither up his spine and coil about his heart in a deadly embrace.

Warily swallowing the last of the meal, even though the starving beggar had suddenly lost his appetite, Rum had just enough time to see the kitchen door swing fully close before something dark grabbed his body and slammed him to the granite wall.

She was beautiful, that was the first thing Rumpelstiltskin realized as he stood face to face with an angry woman. Her eyes were sapphire and glimmered like hard faceted gems in the firelight, and her porcelains skin was flawless to every aspect. Her long amber honey hair, nearly the same color as his eyes was tied loosely behind her with a bit of leather cord. Thin, hard lines that gouged across he features, etched her gorgeous face in testament to her anger, and her arms were crossed as she sized up the beggar with her hard cutting eyes, she had stuck to the wall.

"Do you know who I am?" She growled angrily, her indigo eyes alit with a fury that would have put a demon to shame.

Of course he did, the legend of the lovely, powerful, but dangerous beauty had been around since before he was a child or even his father's father was a child. Her name was Belle, or so some rumors told, others termed her the black widow, but she often went by the Dark One.

Words tried to burst from his suddenly dry throat and his food stained lips; anything to beg for mercy or explain or lie, but only a squeal or terror strangled out of his stammering mouth. The spinner felt fear flooding within as his maple orbs stared wide-eyed in terror at the most powerful being in all the realms facing him with a cruel gleam in her eyes and a malice filled grin set upon the edges of her full pink lips. He had invaded the palace of the Dark One!

At least, he reckoned in some ludicrously calm part of his frenzied thoughts that billowed around his mind like the raging storm, he had no one to care for and no one would miss him when he was nothing but a bloody heap of bones and sinew on a torture room floor.

"I asked do you know who I am!" Belle snapped again, as she tightened her magical grip around his lanky torso with the skeletal hand that held the muddy mendicant pinned to the cold stone wall.

He nodded vigorously sending little splatters of mud from his straggly dirty brown hair and face flinging in all directions. "You…you're…the…the…Dark One!"

A small, utterly wicked smirk bloomed across Belle's flawless face as she offered the faintest of nods. A delicate finger tapped the side of her set jaw as she scanned the pathetic haggard being before her. "And do you know where you are?" Knowing he wouldn't have a clue in exactly what mystical estate he had stumbled into, the lovely fiend shook her head at the question silencing any stuttering words with the motion as she flourished her fingers carelessly through the air. "This is my home; the Dark Castle. And you, my very frightened, puny little mortal have not only broken in but also stolen my food."

"Please…I-I'll pay you back! I'll never breathe a word of this place to anyone! Just let me go!" He begged piteously his entire body trembling violently as if he were still out in the torrents of icy rain and cold mud.

A small sadistic chuckle emanated from the dangerous woman's mouth as she stared ponderously at the beggar she had caught limping through her lavish citadel and engorging upon her conjured meal.

Pay her back, huh, by the looks of him she supposed he didn't have a copper to his name. The plush burgundy carpet, he had stained with the foul dark mud he had dragged in, alone would have cost a kings ransom. "Hmm, intruder, thief, and a liar. My, whatever shall I do with you?"

"Don't kill me, I beg of you." He whimpered cowardly, his nerve shriveling up at the cruel glint of forged steel in her azure eyes. "Please, I'm only a hungry beggar looking for somewhere dry to stay. I have nothing but the clothes on my back; no power, no prestige, no anything. I'm worthless, please let me live!"

Rumpel's heart clamped in terror as she lazily sauntered towards his body still stuck to the wall.

A cry of horror was stuck in his throat, but paused there, unable to make the trek, as he watched her; his body frozen in the midst of eternity. The beautiful Dark One swiped a finger along the caked and splattered mud of his face clearing a spot where his eyes were riveted upon her.

She offered only a small upturn of her lips as she stared at him eye to eye and tapped the tip of his nose with her delicately manicured finger. "Perhaps I will, mayhap I wont. I need to think on what to do with you."

With that she hastily snapped her fingers and for the former spinner the world turned into ice and darkness and stone.

At first Rum assumed it to be some sort of grave meant to suffocate him, but then as his eyes adjusted to the blackness he saw it was merely a cell, more than likely in her dungeon so that he could await his fate.

In the kitchen Belle grinned cruelly as her sharp hearing picked up the frantic pounding of the wooden and iron bolted door and the whimpering cries, laced with terror, to be freed.

That wasn't even a possibility of happening; the beauty knew as she delicately plucked at what remained of the succulent boar and chuckled deviously; her mind whirling with thoughts of what to do with her new prize.


	2. Fates

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! You guys are awesome! :3_

**~8~8~**

"Sleep well, beggar?" Belle inquired in mock gentleness with a pleasant careless air as she sat in her main hall.

A wide, devilishly sinister grin etched upon her flawless features as he icy azure orbs scanned the dirty, mud caked mess of a human life standing at the far end of a wide polished oaken table. Her black strapped boots were propped up on the table moving back and forth to a rhythmic tempo only she could hear, as she peered mischievously at the ragged crippled figure.

The former spinners wiry hands were clasped tightly together before him and his head was cast down so that his straggly dirty chestnut hair curtained across his mud caked face; hiding most of his features. His gnarled crutch was under his arm supporting him in what little way it could without it being too torturous to stand in place.

He probably would have enjoyed a dry modestly warm place to sleep, even if it was a cold, hard dungeon, if he hadn't been painfully pacing, the small square cell nearly the whole night in worry and contemplation of his fate. What torment would she rain down upon him? What vile tricks would she beset him with to slowly fray and pluck the thread of sanity in his mind?

Smells of bacon and buttered bread that lay untouched before the nefarious beauty caused Rum's stomach to growl with hunger. While his body did yearn for something decent to devour he had no appetite whilst standing before the most powerful woman in the world, and in such a dire situation as well.

"N-not t-truly." Rumpelstiltskin admitted as he stammered and swallowed nervously. Beads of sticky sweat pricked at his tanned flesh and glimmered in the first rays of day like the droplets of crystal rain from the night before that now dewed the ground in sparkling gems of white.

A quiet chuckle emanated from the Dark Beauty as she absently picked at the meal of meat and bread at her leisure; ignoring the hunger flashing in his caramel eyes. "First things first, I suppose. What's your name my little beggar?" She asked with just a touch of amusement flitting the edge of her voice before taking a bite of the warm bread.

"R-Rumpelstiltskin…if it pleases your ladyship." The spinner replied faintly as he bobbed his head in a deferent small bow.

A sardonic grin, at his nervous respect, tugged at the very tips of her lips as she swallowed the bit of bread and swiped the flecking crumbs from her lush pink mouth and put her boots back unto the floor with a piercing purposeful heavy thud that made the beggar flinch in fear.

"Rumpelstiltskin." The beauty rolled the curious moniker off her tongue as if savoring it like an expensive new wine. "My that's quite a mouthful; what an intriguing but long and ridiculous name. But no, it does not 'please your ladyship' for I don't think I shall every recall something so tedious to mind." Sighing, the Dark One arose gracefully; her head shaking faintly causing her russet curls, glossy in the suns first intrepid rays, to tumble down her shoulders. "No, no I will simply have to dub you Rum for short."

The beggar fought hard not to heave a sigh of relief at her sly words and the easiness in her fair tone. If she was to give him a name then perhaps she didn't have any dastardly plans to slowly flay his skin from his lanky body or any other agony to wail mercilessly upon his flesh. "By your will, milady." He nodded timidly in acquiescence.

Perhaps there was a chance she was in a favorable mood and mayhap release him no worse for wear to limp through life along his beggarly way. It was a flitting fancy to say the least, but the thought calmed his nervously drumming heart to a milder tattoo.

"Now, this is what goings to happen." Belle stated in a poisoned sweetness like that of a viper as she traipsed around the table to the other end where the filthy cripple stood shakily upon his knobbed crutch awaiting his fate. "Since you so rudely barged into my vast estate and stole my food, and I have no doubt you would have taken anything that wasn't nailed to the floor to sell and give you a bit of coin at a market, I have decided the only way you may pay off your crimes is undoubtedly in flesh."

Flesh. The one sinister word she drawled so pleasantly nearly made his good leg give way in fright. His head shot up at a cracking speed that jarred his neck, as his maple orbs widened with stark, hot terror at the implications of death and torture at the sorceress' hands.

Belle laughed cruelly at the flagrant panic suddenly swelled up inside the mendicant, but shook her head as if reading the thought that screamed through his brain. "Calm yourself, beggar, I do not speak of torture. As amusing as the thought is, you will be more useful to me alive." Before the vexed spinner could even dare broach a question to her meaning, the deadly beauty clamped her hand about his left wrist tightly in a death grip.

Rum tried to pull away, an alarmed cry of fear erupting raggedly from his lips, but the beauty held him faster than any chain could. Her delicate, spell charged fingers glowed a faint crimson and curled over the wrist until a heat like that of a forge simmered and hissed from her grip.

Tears that felt cold in comparison to the boiling heat burning around his wrist pricked the beggar's shut eyes, though he fought to press them away. In mere moments it was over, leaving only a tingling lance of pain shooting through his arm every now and again as her hand fell away from his wrist.

"W-what did you d-do to me?" He asked anxiously as his free hand rubbed the scorched wrist that was still warm to the touch but not like the fire it had once been seconds before.

"It was only a simple spell to let others know who you belong to in the supremely unlikely event that you manage too escape the Dark Castle." Belle revealed freely with a careless shrug. "You see from this moment on your whole life belongs to me. From your crimes you do pay in flesh and blood and sweat and muscle to forever be in my thrall."

"A-a slave you mean." He concluded quietly, though it sounded very close to an awed question.

The dangerous beauty grinned nastily as she offered him a laconic nod. "You're not as dense as you seem. Of course that's what I mean! Oh but do cheer up, if you think about it this is actually much better than any other outcome you might expect. Any king or noble who would have caught you pilfering their things and traipsing about there castles would have had you drawn and quartered or fed to war hounds for your intrusion and thievery."

"But…but you can't do this!" Rum began to protest; momentarily throwing his humbleness to the wind as he found himself caught up in the throes of the shock of his fate.

He was a free man, not a conquered prisoner taken in war as a slave or a man who sold himself to a life of drudgery in hopes that it would be a better life than the one he led. Before he could get another word out a pain like a bolt of lightening rattled through his body taking him to his knees in one agonizing blow. Shocks of icy then fiery pain crisscrossed his formed and stabbed at his insides; boiling under his skin then dousing his fevered blood in a icy chill where he wasn't sure to curl up and wither in heat or shiver violently in frigid tremors that assailed his emaciated body.

Cry's for mercy exploded from his mouth as the pains engulfed his very form and stole every hard fought breath away from his burning lungs that convulsed and clenched to prevent any singular deep breath from leaving or entering his tormented figure.

Belle chuckled darkly as if reveling in the sudden lances of torment she caused upon the poor spinners form. The beauty plucked at a few stray granules of dirt under her expertly manicured nails, painted in a gaily tinged blue, as she left him there writhing in pain for a moment to get her message across.

"Rest assured, my dear beggar, I can and I will. Not only would no one step in to dispute my ownership, you can't prove you did not bargain your life to me." She retorted with a bored yawn before snapping her digits to furl back the pain.

Hard gasps dribbled out of his mouth as his limbs shook tremulously. He had never felt anything like the torment rattling through him only moments before. A part of him only wanted to kneel there and drown in the sorrow of his new lot in life or beg her to reconsider making a weak cripple a slave.

"But I thought you were renowned for your bartering! Why not make a deal with me?" He asked pitifully as the pain subsided from his flesh and drifted as smoke upon the wind.

Harsh laughter met his spattered words of protest, causing the mendicant to flinch as if expecting another wracking shock of torture. Belle merely shook her head in false pity at her new toy, her mood back to amusement in a startling eye blink. "Do you actually have anything I want? You live in penury and yet think you have something to strike a bargain to me with?"

Rumpel's head fell lower to his sunken chest at her cruel easily dealt words that lashed him like a whip; the words, no matter how vile she growled them, were correct. In order to make a deal one certainly needed to have something the other wanted and all he had was his crutch and the rags on his lanky frame; neither of which he was positive held the least bit of interest or value to her.

A sharp, all suffering sigh suddenly burst from the Dark One's lovely lips as she grabbed him by the dark brown muddy rags crusted and clinging to his body to hoist him back to his feet and jerk him from his contemplations. "On your feet you pathetic vagabond." The Dark sorceress snapped as the mendicant landed on his own two feet and yet hissed in the pain from his oddly angled leg.

If she had even noticed the mangled limb, she never said, but circled him slowly, one hand stroking her chin in thought as she spoke aloud to herself. "Very thin, scrawny but with a bit of sinew; weak I'd wager. Nothing a few hearty meals cant mend. I can't have him tracking mud so he'll need a new set of cloths and most defiantly a bath…or three to get rid of all that dirt and grime."

The former spinner kept his head bowed as he fought not to tremble each time her hand came in contact with his skin to inspect him. He had never felt so humiliated in his life standing there for her to see of he was fit enough for whatever she wanted him for. She peered and pulled and studied him as if he were not a man but some cattle or furniture she was about to purchase, filling him with embarrassment and shame all at once.

Once the sinister beauty was satisfied with her thorough assessment of her new trinket the vile sorceress took a smooth step back and stood in front of him, a large smile etched across her features. "You'll do perfectly. Now as for your duties, you will serve me my meals clean the castle, make any little repairs here and there, and tidy up the estate ground until it doesn't look so beastly." She stated in a chipper tone. Then, like a threatening storm cloud drifting over the sun, the sunny mood vanished into a black shadow as her azure eyes pierced him like twin pools of blue flame. "Do you have a problem with any of that, beggar?"

Rum shook his head dutifully, if not a touch frantic with the motion, knowing full well what kind of pain she could bestow upon has form if he dared protest. If there was one thing the spinner was learning at an alarming rate it was that the Dark One had a hair trigger temper that changed as easily as the breeze on the open waters. "No problem. I-I understand, mistress."

Quite suddenly, the beauty lifted his chin in one hand so that his warm maple eyes met with her shards of icy blue. With a smooth flourish of her hand, the beauty knocked aside the veil of straggly dirty chestnut hair from his mud stained features, almost gently it seemed, to get a truly good look at him and to inspect his dirty face. "Hmm, not wonderful, but surely not terrible to look at. Once you're cleaned up and out of your rags, there might actually be a decent looking man under the lice and the muck. I think…yes you'll do adequately." She murmured to herself thoughtfully.

"Do what?" Rum dared ask, his voice strained and cracked with her being so near and unable to escape her grip unless she willed it so.

"You shall also warm my bed when I'm in the mood for it, of course." The vile beauty replied matter-of-factly like it should have been the most obvious thing in the realms as she swiped her hands clean of the flecks of dried mud.

A faint nervous spatter of a paltry laugh that departed as quickly as it came, fell pathetically from the spinners lips as he turned his eyes down to her polished boots, unable to keep his gaze locked to his betters.

Surely that had to be a jest of some sort from the nefarious beauty? A quip at least meant to perhaps banish away some of the terror that had built up within as he learned of his fate?

"Do you think I'm joking?" Belle snarled, taking away any frail touch of humor Rum possessed. " When I am in the mood for you _will _be at my side. I _will _bed you whether you damn well like it or not and don't think for a second I can't make you do anything I want."

How could she possibly mean those words! Rum pondered, flabbergasted that she would even consider to take him to her bed. Just the thought disgusted him and caused his insides to roil angrily with gall and bile. It wasn't that he abhorred women. No, he was indeed attracted to the female persuasion, but no matter how pretty she might be the fact that the woman in front of him was the notorious Dark One simply made him shrink at the thought of coupling with her.

She might have been lovely on the outside, but she was pure unabashed darkness festering on the cold inside, that somehow seemed to permeate and slime and scale over the loveliness where all he felt was revulsion and nausea when he looked at her flawless features that peered back at him with a startlingly indigo intensity.

There had always been tales told of the beautiful Dark One's sickly gorgeousness that was compared to a black wilting rose or the beauty of a corpse of a young woman found at the bottom of an icy river still in the bloom of life caught in an eternal pallid sleep. Disturbingly beautiful and beautifully disturbing as some of the bards who dared utter tales of her deadly venomous grandeur put it.

Rum only nodded dully at her words and the dangerous glint in her cobalt orbs that warned him more than any pain ever could not to dare speak another word about it.

Clapping her hands together once in glee the pressing danger that was there not a split second before banished back to what might have been considered happiness. For the second time, the spinner noticed her moods came and went with an all too ready ease that caused him to go rigid in fear. "Well then, come on I'll show you to your sleeping arrangements."

"I-I won't be sleeping in the dungeons, Mistress?" Rum inquired, confused as he limped as fast as he could behind her.

The beauty chuckled faintly as she turned down a long dark corridor void of any light, save a small guttering flame nestled in a scone that seemed to be suffocated by the blackness that the spinner remembered from the night before that led to the grounds.

"Heavens no, the dungeons are three miles below the castle foundation in the Abyssal Caverns. If you could even find your way through the twisted maw of darkness I'm not certain you could escape every ravenous creature prowling the blackness of that labyrinth." She waved her delicate hand dismissingly at him as she fluttered her fingers to allow the main gate to swing open revealing a bright cheery world of morning after a hard storm.

Not a single threatening cloud dotted the endless expanse of light blue as the sun slowly crawled to its domain high in the azure firmament. The hazy golden rays showered down upon the vast estate making the drops of rain from the night before glimmer like diamonds upon the leaves and intricate spider web that laced the branches and blades of grass so that the whole expanse was alit with faceted jewels bedecked upon the earth.

Rum might have stopped to stare and loose himself in the beauty had his attention not been more focused on his new, extremely volatile mistress who paid the glorious morning little heed.

"No, nothing like that I'm afraid. Instead you'll be sleeping in the stables in the stall right next to Brimstone's." She finished as the vile Dark One gave him a vague motion for him to follow.

"Brimstone?" The slave asked curiously as he limped stalwartly through the sordid mud and filth.

The beauty didn't deem to reply, but sauntered down the winding pathway that led to the stables, her boots never even touching the coppery red tinged mud that disturbingly reminded the beggar of the blood stained ground in the ogre wars that had turned the dust and dirt to mud with the gut churning amount of blood spilt.

The dark thoughts of those days, whipped with out clemency in his mind causing pain to bloom across his face as the images of hacked and dismembered bodies strewn far and wide and grievously injured warriors laying in dark red pools of their own blood and muck screaming for the pain to end resurfaced in his head. Thankfully, the scenes of long ago fell away as quickly as they came once the beauty reached the stables.

The rather small building was crafted of the same drab gray stone that was layered upon the fortified castle, and yet stood aloof from the castle with only the small dirt, now mostly mud, path they had trekked connecting the two buildings.

It was simple, but expertly built like the Dark Castle and even had some carving upon the stone that was worked to look like a galloping herd of horses racing with the wind all along the base work. There was beauty to be had even for a stable, yet the spinner still had to wondered why it was crafted of stone that would make it cold in the winter and not wood, as his new mistress opened the thick oaken doors with dark iron bands across it that seemed fit more for a dungeon than a simple stable.

As the cripple scurried inside after his owner, his mind still pondering about a slew of odd things just from the small walk from the castle to the stables, it became quite frighteningly clear why things were set up the way they were.

Brimstone was an aptly named…what might have been considered in some hellish fashion a horse. The beast towered over the pair with at least another torso taller than the spinner, and had hard flecked eyes of the darkest iciest night ever to fall upon the realms. Its mane and tail seemed to be made of spidery wisps of blackness incarnate and despair spun by some sinister arachnid that flitted about with each stamp of his grooved hooves that burned like the embers of a fire, and shake of its massive body. His thick coarse coat was the color of a moonless starless night that threatened the presence of a disease ridden death and from its large flaring nostrils churned foul black smoke as if a fire was alight in its belly.

"This is Brimstone." Belle stated obviously, her voice laced thickly with pride as she patted its nose tenderly. "He's faster than the winds of a gale and stronger than 70 men."

Walking over to the empty stall beside the beast torn from some nightmare and stolen from some vicious devil the beauty kicked at the little door to the bare bit of space. "You'll sleep there. You'll also feed Brimstone his daily charcoal before you come to the Dark Castle to begin your chores." She ordered as if the horse was not the stuff of terrors come to life.

The mendicants chestnut orbs never left the horse that stared at him murderously with the chips of black ice it called eyes. A part of him was beginning to wish she had chosen him to sleep in the dungeon.

"Now you will have a fresh set of clothes and you may wash yourself in the spare trough in the back of the stables" She continued no paying any mind to the wariness and poignant fear her new slave exuded.

With a sigh, as if she had been forgetting something irksome, the beauty turned back to face the cripple; her arms crossed as she peered at him. "Oh and I suppose I'll just have to fix that mangled little leg of yours so everything you do won't take forever."

With a snap of her delicate fingers a crimson haze encircled his bum leg that had been useless for over 15 years. The spinner watched amazed as he felt the twisted flesh and sinew and muscles all going back into its rightful place and snapping back in line like a wound had never been there to begin with. And for the first time in those long, long, years, he felt no pain streaking up and down his limb.

A thin, modestly satisfied, smile wafted across Belle's pink lips as she nodded at her work. "Good. Now you'll start cleaning this mess of a stable and if you finish before noon you may have lunch. Now get to work."

With that she turned upon her heel and lazily traipsed out of the stables, leaving the shocked spinner numb in place as he flexed his restored limb.

No more limp, no more pain, no more Rumpelstiltskin the worthless cowardly war cripple who got his just desserts by running from a battle.

His shaking calloused hand smoothed across the flesh and squeezed the muscle tightly beneath; feeling the ligaments and tendons come to life as his nails dug into the skin.

The scars that were, ugly and brown and upraised and thick still decorated his appendage as guilty proof of his cowardice, but what did it matter when he could use it once more!

He wanted to thank her, even though healing him was mostly for her own gain; thank her until his voice was hoarse and he had no breath to exert out of his body. His head turned back to the stable doors just quick enough to see the last flitting strands of his mistress' amber honey tresses disappear as he massaged his healed leg in awe. A small grateful smile bloomed upon his face as a sigh pierced his lips and he prepared for his first day at forever.


	3. Library

_A/N: Thanks for taking the time to read and for the stellar reviews, guys. Hugs for all and yes that means _**you **_to yes even you! :3_

**~8~8~**

Over the next few days, the former spinner, now slave of the dark one, spent his moments acclimating to his duties of hard drudgery and cowering in fear of his volatile mistress' moods and whimsies that took her thrall in its dangerous grip quicker than a hearts beat.

The vast lavish Dark Castle was a labyrinth in and of itself with dark, winding corridors snaking in all directions that could stretch on for felt like all of eternity and still always be out of reach to a proper destination that he sought.

That in turn never failed to bring the frightening wrath of his mistress to the forefront for his tardy arrival and actions that he seemed to constantly find himself in. If he somehow was late or long in toiling with a certain chore, it usually ended with him in the throes of torment from her displeasure.

It wasn't that he wasn't trying, Rumpel thought dourly with a dark grimace that matched the dank air around him as he slapped the sopping, drenched mop down again upon the filthy gray stone floor of one of the halls.

After living as a pathetic beggar wandering about the realms, he was more than a little weak from not having any full meals in such a long time, but did things the best he could. Still, all he received for his efforts were sharp words snapped from his owner and lances of agonizing pain coursing through his body with out relent.

Yet as far as his progress in getting better with his chores went, the mistress only saw him as a worthless cripple who couldn't do anything right but plead for mercy as her pain thrashed across his work worn body.

It wasn't all bad, the slave noted with just a hint of optimism peeking out from the knowledge of pain and foul words that suppressed his hope. She had repaired his bum leg to be good as new so that his rotting crutch was no more than an old possession leaning up against a wall and gathering dust in the small confines of the stable stall he used as his sleeping quarters.

He had three full meals a day even though he always ate the leftovers after the mistress' meals; tucked away in the kitchen he had so blindly stumbled upon what felt like years ago.

She had even donated the cup that had fallen from his numbed gripped, when she had captured him in her web, even though now the blue and white gaily painted ceramic had a small slanting chip along its gilded rim that promised to slit his lip if he wasn't careful with the small item.

Even his filthy, mud coated rags had vanished to be replaced with a few coarse tunics and breeches of cotton and wool dyed in heady soft brown and warm russet hues.

The garments were just a tad threadbare and worn and the fringes but by far better than the ripped and patched thrown away and forgotten articles of clothing he had previously scrounged for to garb over his form.

A small chuckle escaped the former spinner thin lips as he finished swabbing the dark corridor. In less than a week his life of penury had taken a total turn around to where he had a warm place to sleep and clothes and food on a regular basis. Truly it might have been a dream or wish granted by a kind fairy godmother come true had it not been for-

"Rum!" The fiendish beauty barked dangerously yanking him out of his rambling thoughts. Her sharp voice echoed about the stony hallway, making the former spinner cringe at her tone and heart lurch with anxiousness.

Placing the dirty water filled bucket out of the way and leaning the mop aside on a column he began a wary quick trot through the winding corridors wondering what had he done to provoke her volatile rage _this _time and how painful the torment would be.

A large part of him wanted to sequester himself away and hide from her terrifying anger but he had learned rather quickly she could always find him and the pain was usually worse than what she would have done anyway.

Belle paced furiously in long determined strides in what Rum had come to learn was the main hall where she took all her meals and some times read by the fire. Her head jerked around sharply as the one of the double doors creaked open and her slave sidled inside like a little roach.

The beggars head was downcast as he stared at the floor and the boots she had given him as he usually did, always so afraid to look her in the eye even when she was in a pleasant mood.

"Do you know what time it is?" The vile beauty snapped as she completely turned to face him, even though her foot tapped in a dangerous beat against the plush carpet.

The slave cast a quick glance to the open windows that he still had yet to scrub clean, only to wince at the position of the fiery golden orb high in the sky.

Noon, of course it was well past time to serve her midday meal and like a moron it'd slipped his mind as he'd polished down the stands and column in the main hall and sealed a crack in the corner of on of the stained glass mural and scrubbed the floors and balustrades.

Rum visibly flinched, his shoulders jerking as if startled as he instinctively prepared himself for the pain. "Forgive me, mistress. I-I am sorry it slipped my mind, please spare me." He replied on instinct, almost feeling the pain crackling against his flesh; eagerly wanting to lash its torment upon him.

"Forget about lunch." She waved her hand dismissingly in his direction, her tone much less angry and more contemplative. "In fact…" She paused and grinned slyly at her slave causing his stomach to plummet in fear of the wolfish grin that scared him more than her rage ever could. "I have something better for you to do."

Stark fear and nauseous disgust gripped his heart in its tight icy grasp at her cunning words that created vile shivers to slither up his spine. She couldn't mean that she desired to bed him, could she? He pondered warily as his gut churned at the mere thought. So far, however, she hadn't made another mention to coupling with him yet still the less than pleasant thought brought a dark disquiet shadow that enshrouded him when her words came back to mind.

"Do stop tarrying like a simple minded serf and come along." Belle sighed in an irked reprimand that bordered on her temper flaring up again.

The former spinner bowed his head apologetically as he followed her; quickly diffusing her rising anger. "As you say, Mistress." He replied solemnly.

A small half amused smirk wafted faintly upon Bell's pink lips at her slave's constant timid quality towards her. How could one man be so spineless? The vile beauty pondered as they traversed the dank yet lavish hall ways that he still needed to dust and mop.

The silence around them felt like a burdened blanket ensorcelled them in its soundless presences that pressed stiflingly against the pair as they trekked through the winding halls and up a dark stone spiral stairway.

"Do you know where we're headed?" The Dark One inquired to combat the palpable quiet that echoed about them as she finished scaling the oddly grand staircase of onyx marble.

Rum shook his head mildly as his sharp honey maple orbs scanned the absolute filth they had stumbled into. "No, Mistress." He admitted, even though his voice sounded disconcerting as it broke upon the cold silence.

In fact for Rumpelstiltskin the whole new wing of the castle she had led him in seemed to be even more lavish that what was in the east wing or the downstairs. The rose colored stained glass, while grime ridden, gleamed the suns flaxen rays like rubies upon the floor. Vases of ceramic and full sets of silver and gold crested armor upon their stands looked as if they cost the entire fortune of a kingdom were even swathed in thick sordid dust; leaving a fine layer upon the treasures that lined the halls and crannies.

The former spinner very nearly asked how this large secluded part of the Dark Castle could be so extravagantly adorned and yet even messier than the filthy dust caked mess of moth eaten tapestries and inch thick grit along the walls everywhere else, but tactfully held his tongue.

"This is the most important room in this entire castle." Belle revealed, her tone solemnly serious as she halted in front of twin massive ash wood doors that towered up nearly to the vaulted ceiling.

The doors unlike the dark russet and burgundies or dull grays that colored the ins and outs of the caste where as white as bleached bones. By magic or great skill, murals of fae and other wood realm creatures frolicked through coppices pines and oaks that were carved upon the ivory hued wood. Large ornate handles that looked like stag antlers were curved upon the wood though surprisingly where painted a dark black that contrasted highly with the unblemished white.

The beggar's heart convulsed warily as the vile beauty threw the doors open with a graceful twitch of the wrist that revealed the grandiose room within. His jaw dropped in awe as he staggered numbly into the grand yet dirty chamber that was more befit of a king's throne room.

Books of all sorts and types lined every open space and nook possible. They ran from the ground all the way up to the lofty mural ceiling that displayed more bucolic forest scenery of regal stags and mountains.

Only two monolithic windows, that were nearly the length of the doors, were the only thing not practically covered in books but where thrown open, their velvet indigo drapes drawn, to allow the radiant light of day to cascade inside the large library.

Certainly he had seen a few books in his life, but they were perhaps a dozen at best. He had never seen so much of one thing in one place. To his eyes there were probably enough to fill a thousand manors and have room for more!

"This is my library." Belle revealed with a hint of tenderness as she drifted about the room. Her finger tips lightly brushed against a few faded worn leather bound tomes that were nestled in a small section of bookshelf as if they all had some sort of special meaning to the dangerous beauty. "You will serve me tea here when I'm reading, make certain there is plenty of wood in the fireplace and stocked close, and keep the candles trimmed and free of wax from dripping from their holders and sullying one of my precious books. All of this on top of cleaning every nook and cranny of this place." She stated tonelessly as her eyes scanned the tomes.

"My…my lady this place is unbelievably massive. How do you expect me to clean it all?" The slave replied once he found his voice again from staring at the magnitude.

While a small bit of him was still stuck in awe, another noted how her features softened and settled as she glanced over her copious collection of tomes and how just for a moment her emotions that constantly varied soothed to one temperament that was on the cusp of what Rum might have termed calm and level minded.

Here she seemed at peace almost as if the vileness about her recoiled back as her icy eyes melted into the warmth of a summer sky, and her smile oddly made his heart lurch. Here in her library she seemed more beauty than beast. Lovely even...

Belle offered him a demure smile that faded as quickly as it came before shrugging carelessly. "One section at a time of course. You do have all the time in the world now." She quipped with a chuckle.

The servant wasn't that surprised when her mood took on another dark aspect as she padded towards him. It always unnerved him how frequent her moods came and went but he had learned not to shiver in fear when she got that strange hard chips of ice in her azure eyes. "Lets make a few things clear though. These books are of the utmost value to me; I expect you to handle them with the best care. If I find one spine bent, one page ripped, one blot of ink soiled and leaked…" The fiendish beauty let the threat hang ominously in the musty, dust filled air as she glared dangerously at the spinner.

A shiver shuddered through Rum at her poisonous words that were sprayed upon him. Even though his head was bowed to look at the plush carpet of blue he could feel her cobalt orbs scorching and tearing through him with the all too real threat.

"U-u-understood." The former beggar replied, unable to get the entire word out without stammering and his tongue not working accordingly.

Trembling uncontrollably, he tensed and waited for a warning pain to lash his body when he heard her soft laughter that prickled Goosebumps along his skin like a chill wind had just skimmed his flesh. "You're so cute when you're terrified, Rum." Belle stated as she patted his cheek once before turning away. "A late lunch is awaiting in the kitchen after that you may start upon my library." The devilish beauty informed him before briskly tramping away.

"Um…mistress." Rum dared speak up, even though it wasn't his place to do so. "Why show me this place now?"

The deadly beauty turned back to her slave offering him a wry smile that was laced thickly with mischievous intent. "I simply have to have you do something whilst I'm away."

"Away…?" Rum echoed vexed, his brow furrowed.

The devious beauty shrugged demurely at the probing question, not choosing to scold him on it as she happily tramped away. "Oh you know, I have deals to discuss, babies to steal, souls to devour, and spirits to sunder."

With that, an odd far away laugh that felt as through the drafty currents carried it aloft echoed from the Dark One as she disappeared back downstairs, leaving the spinner shaken and with a dangerous yet desperate plan blooming in his mind.


	4. Runaway

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing!_

**~8~8~**

There were a few convenient perks of having a stable built of stone instead of wood, Rumpelstiltskin considered as he lay upon the dry heap of flaxen straw in the stall that served as his sleeping quarters. One being that he could have a few candles to give him light without worrying to badly of the stables catching ablaze and in turn suffering the wrath of the mistress.

Guttering flames of a few small candles licked pathetically against the blackness that enshrouded and layered thickly around the stables, but gave off just enough of its paltry flame to cast the former spinner's features in odd mixture of shadow and light that danced upon his tanned skin.

Rum lay on his side upon the pile of straw, listening to the night sounds of whippoorwills crying their mournful dirges and crickets serenading in the blackness as their music rang out into the lonesome darkness.

The stone stable felt empty without the huge monstrosity of a horse not stamping and snorting in the stall over leaving Rum undecided to if he missed the presence of the massive beast or was relived the animal that had surely galloped from the gates of hell was gone.

Of course since Brimstone was gone that meant Belle was as well leaving the Dark Castle with only one miserable occupant housed upon the vast estate. One forcefully held resident that was about to disappear into the darkness if all went according to plan.

Under the straw a small, black leather satchel with bread and cheese and a canteen were hidden under him and awaiting use.

The former spinner was certain given enough time his mistress' volatile temper would leave him as nothing but a bloody puddle soaking into the stone of the castle after she tore him limb from limb for some little offence or slip up. He simply could not live the rest of his life in the nervous terror that always grasped him when she was around.

"I have to." Rum grit his teeth determinedly as his wiry hand slipped under the strands of straw. "It is either this or death at her hand one of these days."

The thoughts of forever being her slave steeled the spinner as he brought forth the small black pack he would take with him. Now with his newly mended leg he could get work at least and wouldn't have to limp through life as a beggar.

Sneaking to the thick barred double doors, Rum paused there as he nudged the stable door open a crack to peer out. His soft brown eyes searched the empty blackness before a bellowed deep breath hissed from his lips to calm his nerves. It was now or never.

Pushing through the thick doors the former beggar raced out into the cool night air. The sky was a blanket of blackness with diamonds resting in its velvet darkness as the slave slung the pack of his shoulder and raced across the vast tracts of land towards the coppices of forests that would lead away from slavery and a crazy Dark One.

His first major concern of his plot to escape the Dark Castle and its temperamental mistress was the question of what magic's had she strewn across the vast property in order to keep unwanted others out. Yet so far, even for his high stung nerves, nothing was being conjured to attack him. No milky shroud of mist had arisen from the cold earth to block his way, no furious bays of hell hounds released upon his heels, not even magic skeleton hands to thrust out of the earth to fetter him!

The spinner's breath heaved out of his burning lungs as he raced as fast as his legs could possibly carry him across the tract of misty earth; the satchel slapping against his side as he sped like hell nipped upon his neck.

Fogged clouds of vapors billowed from his panting mouth in a thick steady stream that churned about him as he pressed himself forward. Freedom, Freedom the word was like a chant in his fevered mind; goading him onward in the misty darkness

For what seemed like hours instead of minutes the dark border of the forest came closer into view, looking ominous and yet like the gates of heaven as he lopped closer to the fringe of darkness to loose himself amidst the undergrowth and brambles of the darkened woods.

He stumbled once upon dewed loamy earth but caught himself and lunged forward with the strength only endowed upon the desperate; plowing determinedly with escape so close.

Freedom! It was only a few pounding steps away to be gone from his insane mistress and a life of slavery! A strangled cry of joy and victory burst from Rum's spittle flecked lips as he came within a foot of the tangled glades that opened into a maw of opportunity.

Grinning from ear to ear a victorious laugh sputtered gaily from his mouth. He nearly brushed his hand against the leafy boughs that hung low from the tangled growth when it felt as if the night itself formed into a physical entity that battered him from the side with a blow that sent his body racking with pain.

What had been rich dewed earth under his boots became cool air whistling past him as he sailed through the night to land roughly back upon the estate grounds though very near to the forest fringe as if whatever had struck him was mocking his longing for freedom.

"My, you certainly are cautious. I was waiting for an hour for you to race out of that stable!" Belle laughed whimsically as she spurred Brimstone to plod towards her fallen thrall.

It had been only a matter of time before he would have attempted it, the beauty had known and now that he had done so it was more hilarious than irksome that he actually believed he could simply waltz up and dash like a frightened deer to safety.

The horses fiercely glowing hooves that blackened and curled and hissed with heat upon the damp grass under them, were the only light upon the moonless night, though they cast enough of a brightness to illuminate the ground around. The deadly beauty smiled cruelly at the spinner lying on his back, the wind taken out of him, as she paused the horse only a few inches away.

Rum's chest heaved in and out deeply, his side thudding with pain where Brimstone's bulk had collided with him sending him flying through the sky and landing hard upon his back to stare dazed at the twinkling firmament.

The beggar blinked owlishly, trying to dash away his smeared vision that transformed everything into double as he sought to catch his breath. How could he have been so foolish to think that she wouldn't have anything in place to keep him there till the day he died?

Giving an admonishing tsk the devious beauty leapt off Brimstone and padded towards the stunned mendicant. "Rum I thought you cleverer than this." Belle remarked with a dry smile and a mock disappointed shake of her head as she knelt down to him.

Even in the faint light she could tell he was injured with sprained or even broken ribs from the blow Brimstones bulk had dealt him. "You should have known I'd never let something I own go." She stated cheerily as she fluttered her crimson lit fingers next to the wounds and cracked bones under the clothes and skin to mend them.

However, even though her ruby magic wove its healing upon him, the deadly Dark One left the growing discoloration of black and purple tinted flesh that splotched against his skin as testament of his folly.

Rumpelstiltskin groaned in agony as the splinters of bone shifted back together and the pain from the cracked ribs that caused so much torment when trying to inhale eased. He truly should have known better but desperation was an excellent persuader in doing stupid things.

"Mistress…" He wheezed in a cough that hurt his lungs but couldn't force himself to say more.

Belle tapped his nose once, causing her slave to flinch in terror as a wide malice filled grin splayed upon her eerily illuminated face. "Hush and let me show you why escaping is pointless." She ordered happily with oddly no amount of threat mingling her pleasant timbre. "Now do you know what happens if you cross the border into the forest?"

Rum merely shook his head faintly; a tad of vertigo swirling his senses as his gut clenched in fear.

"Well let's find out, shall we!" Belle crowed as she helped the beggar to his feet.

Rum swayed slightly, nearly falling to his knees but managed to stay up right as his mistress flung him against one part of a massive gnarled beech trees that just fringed her lands.

Of course he was expecting pain and torment, but nothing like that stabs that trust at him in every conceivable direction. What felt like the barb tips of knives pierced and pricked at his tender skin; digging and twisting and wrenching upon every aspect of his form right down to his heart.

Rum lifted his hands weakly to combat the invisible blades that rooted out his flesh only to swat at nothing but cool night air that almost felt akin to some form of moking. And besides that, he could feel his leg twisting and cramping back towards it mangled state that would leave him nothing but a hobbling cripple and beggar.

"Now you see while you will never get far away from my estate, Rum?" She inquired with an upward twitch of the lips like his pain was mildly amusing as she watched him squirm like a wounded bug.

"Yes! Yes!" The beggar cried; his voice quaking and hoarse as he fought to scrambled back to the estate side.

Belle's smile softened as she allowed him to sidled to the estate portion where the tree crossed the boundary back to her lands.

Rumpel heaved a heavy breath as he leaned upon the part of the tree crossing over to her side and the pain eased away and the flesh knit into its rightful place. Splotches of sticky sweat dribbled down the side of his face and mingled with a bit of dirt and the stray strands of golden straw from his pallet caught in his hair.

He fully expected her to put her own usual pain she assaulted his body with, or even a sharp dangerous word to warn him from ever trying to escape again.

Instead, he was completely taken aback when the vile beauty smashed her lips against his own in a hard, hungry kiss. Her mouth was soft yet as bitter as wormwood, warm though the warmth of still mildly heated ash that was foul and rank as it suffused with him.

He had just attempted to run away and she was kissing him as if he were some enchanted lover meeting at some hide-away spot?

To Rum, the kiss seemed to crawl along for tortuous hours, wallowing in retching muck, until she backed away from him, her cobalt eyes bright and eager in a devilish lust that made him cringe.

A harsh laugh barked out from Belle's throat as her slave gagged from the press of her lips against his. She smirked at him as her finger tips brushed a driblet of saliva from his lower lip.

"I know what you're thinking; why aren't I furious with you? Perhaps I would be in a foul mood if I didn't have plans for you after I get back." They deadly Dark One chuckled lowly as she coiled a strand of his straggly dirty brown tresses about her finger mischievously. "When I arrive I want you washed and cleaned up and awaiting in my bed room. Don't worry about finding it; you'll know the way."

Rum gaped at her aghast, as if she had spoken some sort of anathema to his senses. His warm chestnut orbs frantically searched her azure own to see if she was possibly even remotely joking, but only witnessed a lustful truth shimmering in her eyes that made his heart plummet into his belly. This woman… this thing…after he had tried to run…?

"You are mad." He whispered hoarsely in a frightened tremor as he pondered what would be worse; crawling to freedom in racking torment or bedding her.

A muscle jerked sporadically in Belle's jaw as if he had spoken something slightly amusing. "Hmm, perhaps I gave you too much credit when I first found you if you're only _just _figuring that out; of course I'm insane. I wouldn't be the Dark One if I wasn't."

Before he could protest or even plead to be spared such a fate upon her return, the Dark One seemed to vanish into the chilled night air leaving him cold and sick on the inside.

As his breath slowed, the stunned Rum wiped at his lips again, the taste of her foul mouth pressed against his lingering like venom, as he dazedly staggered back to the Dark Castle feeling utterly vanquished and hopeless while wondering what was he to do about her command.

~8~8~

Rumpel heard Brimstone's sonorous brisk trot up the long cobblestone pathway before he saw the shady black outline and flecks of embers of the midnight hued animal clop along the path.

Despite his thoughts screaming for him to try and run again Rum knew it would be futile to fight her will. Magic would always be stronger; binding him in the wretched Dark Castle for all eternity and leashing him to her ever whim. Now he stood pacing a wide and lavish but simple room filled with books and a queen sized bed draped with fine gossamer and silks of crimson as he awaited her return.

He was clean with a dark brown tunic and breeches over his form. His scruffy five o'clock shadow was still bloomed upon his face that he scratched nervously every so often.

The castle did indeed show him where to go even though he inwardly fought the command every step of the way. That of course had all been for naught. She would have what she desired even if it was he whom she wanted.

The echo of her boots rang around him as he put his pacing on a forceful hiatus and stared out at the dwindling night. He had to do this, for what choice did he have save refuse and meet a horrid end?

The creaking door was the only testament she had arrived in the room and even facing the glass he could feel her grin burning and branding upon the back of his neck. As she neared his body, her fingers curled about his upper arm as her scalding breath whispered against the back of his neck. Even turned away he could feel her wolfish grin on the nape of his neck, causing his skin to prickle in an array of Goosebumps.

Rum nearly protested but it seemed that something had taken hold of his voice and fought it from surfacing. Besides, what was there to say?

He could only be led like a hog to the slaughter as she pulled him back to the bed; her darkness and beauty engulfing him in shadow of its own accord; pulling him into fathoms of blackness he had never known.

Later, when the sky was transforming into a faint gray, the former spinner staggered down the path completely unbelieving what had happened. He felt his body reacting to hers of its own volition, for she was beautiful, but it had felt so sordid, so tainted, so…vile and even after all was over there was no satisfaction; at least not for him.

When they had…finished she seemed even colder and more distant than usual. The dangerous beauty had then quickly proceeded to toss him out, back to the stables as if nothing had occurred at all. She had been sated and that was that.

Now slowly tramping down the winding dirt path back to the stall, knowing what he had just done of his own accord, despite how much he detested it, the spinner lurched to the side of the weed ridden trail and vomited; his stomach swilling with bile.


	5. Visit

_A/N: Sorry, this was supposed to go up yesterday but we're getting hammered with storms down here that is doing a number on everyone's electricity. Thanks for reading and reviewing, Lovelies!_

**~8~8~**

"I must say, Regina, you're looking rather well; glowing in victory almost." Belle remarked with a flitting jesting tone as she slunk back comfortably in a polished wooden chair.

Her delicate, spell clever fingers tips were pressed lightly against one other in a little triangle as she peered over her expertly violet painted nails to the other female sitting in tactful ease on the opposite side of the table. "I would assume that pesky Snow White that's been such a nagging thorn in your side has been dealt with properly?"

The vile witch adorned in lacy black finery that was on the precipice of gaudy marked a stark contrast to her ashen pale skin flashed a disguised warm smile that was akin to a cold fire as she tipped her head in a sagely nod. "Of course, Belle darling, I simply followed your exact instructions in enchanting the apple in the venom. Your elixir was superb per usual."

"Mm, I'm glad you were pleased with my work." The beautiful Dark One drawl lazily with a vicious grin that shared offered nothing friendly in the sharp upturn of her pink lips.

Even though she detested the very sight of the pompous harpy that was Regina, there was a certain agonizing pleasure in having her drop by every so often. Until she had acquired Rum it was one of the rare passing fancies that stole away some of the tedium of dwelling in the lavish castle.

Sighing once, the gorgeous beauty fluttered her fingers through the air dismissingly at the begrudging praise of her enemy as a small insane chuckle fell from her lips. "Surely you didn't come here to fawn over my vast skills at potion making, Regina? Come now there is something more you need. A charm, a spell, some magical serum perchance?"

"Always insightful aren't you, old friend?" The dark queen spat with an angry grimace. Her hard teal eyes were akin to flecks of cold steel that held testament to her loathing for the powerful fiend.

Belle merely nodded demurely before snapping her clever fingers as if something had slipped her mad thoughts. "Tea! I knew I was forgetting something to this little foray." The dark beauty muttered to herself as though she were the only occupant in the room. "Rum, you may serve us tea now."

"Rum…?" Regina inquired quizzically; a plucked brow perched in confusion. Thoughts of business were momentarily disregarded as the wicked queen stared in genuine surprise at her enemy. "Who, or knowing you more specifically, _what _is a Rum?"

"He's just a beggar I took thrall for all eternity after he wandered into my lands and entered my sanctum." Belle replied with a sigh and a small careless shrug, her tone nonchalant, as Rumpelstiltskin's wiry form appeared in the main hall from a side door.

The former spinners head was bowed subserviently, a silver gilt kettle curling wispy tendril of milky steam about his features, as he scuffled with all precarious balancing haste he dare muster and laid the laden tray upon the table.

Immediately he began tending to the deadly beauty's usual cup of tea exactly how she enjoyed taking it; hoping with the last bit of promise he held in his heart that the conversation wouldn't last on him but perhaps they'd disregard his presence as nothing more than a worthless slave.

Regina barked a grating laugh as her jasper orbs gazed curiously, if not judgingly, at the lanky Rum. "That? Belle Dear, he looks a bit straggly. Couldn't you have enthralled some one else that didn't look so…pathetic? A little muscle wouldn't have hurt you know."

"He does seem like a stringy waif at first, I'll admit, but he's got sinew and is a hard worker. Besides…" She paused, her icy azure eyes scathingly searching him in a hungry stare like a wolf does its wounded prey. "He's adequate in bed."

The words although, so cooled and uncaring as they fell past her lips, made the spinner clatter the silver upon the fine porcelain with a wavering hand as the words struck him like a physical force.

Both sorceresses smiled in amusement at his bumbling as he tried to block out their conversation that had suddenly taken a turn he wished anything would veer them from.

"Really Belle, there had to be some other fellow better to couple with than him." Regina commented with a derisive snort as Rum forced himself to focus on the task and not one phrase of a very private matter he didn't even want to happen.

The gorgeous beauty gave a small smile that almost very faintly seemed endearing as she dismissingly flicked a lock of amber honey hair from her features. "Oh he's competent enough; rather enjoyable even. I wouldn't waste my time or energy rutting with him if he weren't."

In her mind, Belle made a note that for all of Regina's thought and cunning she would bet her castle the wicked sorceress would have herself a little plaything to distract herself with soon enough. He would more than likely be some rugged, chiseled hunter or knight, for the vile queen always coveted what Belle possessed and tried to out do her in any childish way possible. It was rather amusing in its own pathetic way, really.

At that the wicked queen barked out another laugh, more amused than false and aimed towards the tea tending spinner. "Look, Belle, you're little pet must be embarrassed; his cheeks are red as hot embers upon a hearth!"

Indeed Rum's cheeks were alit with a crimson that he couldn't suppress no matter how hard he tried. The tips of his ears felt as if they were dipped in an inferno of flame that scorched through his flesh unrelentingly. Had he the power to slink away at that moment he most assuredly would have, but that in turn would have rankled his mistress' wrath.

As a peasant, private lives especially about mating was usually kept hushed and only spoken in the dark by the elder gossipers who had nothing more to do than spin conjecture about others lives. Now it seemed as if his mistress was flaunting it to the woman in black who fancied herself an extravagant, gorgeous queen. Although to Rum she looked akin to a pale serpent trussed up in black scales, trying to be something she was not.

"Shy and modest; I must admit I did not think that was exactly your taste in men, Dear. Well, not with your history." Regina chuckled darkly in a cruel barb towards Belle that expertly hit its mark in the beauty's heart.

The Dark One's lush lips formed into a thin pink line as her azure gaze hardened like cold sapphire gems at the taunt towards her slave; yet was aimed indirectly at her.

Even though she cared as much for Rum's embarrassment and feelings as she did a sack of forest mushrooms she wasn't one to simply have Regina prod and poke quips to anything she possessed indicating some sort of weakness or flaw.

For a moment her façade of friendly whimsy cracked just enough for Regina to take note and tuck the barely unnoticeable look away for the future in some plan against Belle.

"Rum, my tea." Belle demanded lowly, but tacked on with a dangerous pleasantness that made the former cripple gulp hard in nervousness.

The former spinner nodded warily as he brought the fine silver and gold cup towards his mistress.

A suddenly cruel idea bloomed in the vile queen's mind that sparked an inward devilish grin at the utter fiendishness inside her. Flicking her hand nonchalantly under the table, the harpy sent arches of dark tinted magic jolting through the large red rug placed under the table causing a bit of the fabric to scrunch up right under the slaves footing.

Rum let out a yell of surprise as his feet entangled upon the rug and he went sprawling forward, his hand letting the tea cup slip and go hurling wantonly through space.

For a tenuous few seconds the cup seemed to hang in midair before tumbling back to the hard stone and shattering into a flurry of tiny porcelain shards mingled in a pool of dark brown liquid that was beginning to soak into the expensive crimson rug.

A growl of abject displeasure seeped from Belle's lips as she stared at the mess scattered at her feet. Her ire, though truthfully directed to Regina, was more focused on Rum for making her look as if she had taken an incompetent moron into her capture.

"Rum, you clumsy fool!" She hissed dangerously letting lances of pain thrash upon his form unmercifully.

There was a part of the tormented spinner that desired to protest the pain that he was unjustly being dealt, but merely muttered apologies hoping his pathetic begging would appease her or at least make her grow bored in punishing him with her magic's.

"So that's how you keep him in line." Regina stated; her tones impressed and completely unmerciful towards the pained spinner as she nodded knowingly. "If it were me I'd probably rip his heart from his chest, but I can see how this has its advantages."

After another moment of wracking the spinner's body with agony, the beauty recoiled her cruel magic's to allow Rum to rise unsteadily to his feet.

Pointing in the general direction of the kitchen the beauty flicked her wrist dismissingly as if nothing had occurred whatsoever. "Go back into the kitchen and bring the blue and white tea set, Rum." She ordered; her tone almost happy despite the ice laced in her pleasant timbre.

"A-as you wish, mistress." Rum stammered as her awkwardly gathered up the burden of tray and kettle and little bowls heaped with sugar and cream as he dashed along with as much control as he could muster.

"So where were we?" Belle inquired pleasantly towards her nemesis as she planted a hand under her chin thoughtfully; her veil of friendship back to hide her true feelings of hate and despising.

Regina cleared her throat tremulously in a way that made Belle want to grin at the sudden distaste exuding from the harpy as the queen folded her hands delicately in her lap with a business like manner.

All false niceties disappeared like smoke wafting upon the breeze as Regina got down to why she had chosen to make an audience with her detested foe. "I have no doubt you dabble in the blackest arts of curse weaving, Belle."

"I have been known to delve into their entwined, sordid mysteries." Belle admitted with a slight proud nod. "Dangerous, but with powerful effect if used and formed correctly."

The wicked queen flashed a dark sneer before licking her crimson lips as if something foul was on the tip of her tongue. "Which is why I have come to you? Only you can create for me the most powerful curse in all the realms. A curse that will banish everyone in this world to one of no magic and mired with far more misery and pain."

"And what has every single person in this land done to you to incur such judgmental wrath?" The dangerous fiend rebuffed with a chuckle; genuinely curious but not giving an answer.

"There's happiness still out there, Belle." Regina growled bitterly as she smashed her fist upon the table making it rattle, and causing the deadly beauty to giggle at the harpy's exposed anger that could not be hidden or marred behind some painted smile. "I see it in my kingdom; little loves flourishing and blossoming while I was denied my own! Yes I have sought and gained my revenge upon that blasted wench Snow and her lover boy of a prince, but I won't be satisfied till this entire world is under my heel and writhing in misery!"

A cackle of amusement echoed from Belle as she grinned insanely at the witch, her cobalt orbs alit in fiendish delight. "So because of your emptiness wallowing in your heart you would damn the world to a misery to match your own?" A dark laugh barked from the vile beauty as she shook her head. "Sounds like fun."

"So you'll craft this curse for me?" Regina asked in an excited whisper that revealed her expectation. Her fingers were curled about the wood of the table as she leaned forward, her heart pounding.

"I make no promises." Belle admonished with a waggle of her finger. "But I'll see what I can do. Then of course we may discuss the matter of price."

The loathsome queen let a cold smile pass her lips as her body relaxed and she inclined restfully into the mahogany and dark velvet inlayed chair. "Of course, dearest friend. I wouldn't dare think otherwise." She uttered in acquiesce just as Rum trekked back in with another gilded tray now crafted of blue and white porcelain.

This time the pair of sorceress' merely chatted, almost amiably, of coming and goings and meddling and all manner of mischief's they had worked their way into as he turned to his careful task.

After finally serving his mistress correctly, the spinner served Regina a steaming cup of tea and backed away with a small bow of respect before turning to his mistress once more, but with a ghost of a smile layered thinly upon his lips that Belle had never seen before.

"So as I was saying that little mermaid made a-" The evil queen paused right as she took a precarious nip of tea only to spew it out in the next moment; coughing and sputtering as a hand flew to her throat.

Huge quantities of salt had been dumped into the brew which the slave had poured for her instead of sugar! As she coughed and hacked, the spinner looked aghast, his dark maple eyes wide but shimmer with satisfied revenge while Belle wasted no time in laughing insanely until she had to hold her sides in cruel merriment.

"Oh you'll pay for that, slave!" She roared as she leapt up; making the chair clatter over as she did so. Her palm was outstretched to Rum's direction the black sparks of magic dribbling from her hand as she sought to put her own pain upon him.

It might have worked or even killed him had Belle not banished the queen's magic with a careless flick of the wrist and a scolding little rumble from her throat. "He's mine. None of that now. I shall deal with him for that little offence later."

Rum fully did expect to be punished for such a foolhardy and stupid action of revenge for getting him punished, but it had been worth it to see the 'queens' features twisted so horridly in disgust that was so much more befitting her face as she swallowed the salt laced brew.

A small giggle fell past his lips as he scurried back into the kitchen, all the while feeling the heat of Regina's rage blazing on the back of his neck and in some way the distant cold approval of his mistress.

"Rum, attend me in the main hall." Belle order absently after the ostentatious Regina had departed.

The deadly beauty was fairly pleased how the meeting went even though she thoroughly despised the witch. She was asked to create something that would destroy entire lives and shred families asunder and make all the realms miserable under the throes of her curse. And above that, Regina had gotten bested by her slave.

The spinner padded slowly inside, his body tensed as he fully expected to be to be punished the very moment he walked into the hall.

Instead he was met by a laugh and a hearty clapping of hands as he paused a few steps away from the large table.

"Clever, Rum, very clever and here I thought you were spineless." The beauty commended him with a small nod and a pleased smile that seemed almost lovely instead of her usually disturbing grins. "Tell me, what burst of courage or stupidity prompted you to put salt in her tea?"

The former spinner ran a hand through his straggly dirty brown hair, unused to praise from anyone especially his mistress. "I knew you wouldn't allow her leave to kill me. You hate her."

Belle's lovely laughter tapered away in confusion for a moment as her brow furrowed in thin lines of curiosity. That was an interesting observation to make, the beauty knew, one that left something feeling not quite normal inside her. "How did you know I hated her?" She inquired as she cocked her head slightly to the left.

No one had ever been able to see past her veils unless she wished them to. Indeed, many surmised that the 'fair' queen and the notorious Dark One were as thick as thieves and in league with one another at every turn; not seeing that they truly and utterly hated one another.

Strangely, however, he had just pointed out her hatred of the pompous peacock with ease as though her face had not been masked from him at all.

"The look on your face, the way you speak to her like everything is a whimsical jest." He answered with a shrug as if it didn't matter. "If I may be so bold, I'd say you absolutely loathe her."

The gorgeous dark one stared at him thoughtfully for a moment, her mind combing over a few ponderous inquiries at his words before a small, strange, smile graced her lips that Rum had never seen before. "You're perceptive, Rum; I admire that in any one." She admitted before jerking her head back towards the kitchen. "I'll take luncheon now. Oh and bring enough for two, you will join me here." Belle tacked on as an after thought.

She wasn't quite certain why she said it, only that it seemed fitting as she tried to plumb the mystery of why he so easily tore away the mask that no one else had ever penetrated.

After that little stunt, she was coming to realize there was more to the beggar than she had first thought.

The words shocked the spinner, so much so that he almost asked why, but thought better of it right before the words crossed the threshold of his lips. Even in her features he could see something new in her azure eyes as if she were reevaluating him in a way that he didn't understand. Did his words truly affect her so?

Clearing his throat once the former cripple merely bobbed once in a brisk bow before scurrying off towards the kitchen, his mind just as his mistress' awhirl with strange new thoughts.


	6. History

_A/N: Thanks so much for reading and for all the wonderful reviews! _

**~8~8~**

Over months of dwelling in the recesses and looming shadow of the ominous Dark Castle, the former spinner had drawn the conclusion that things could have been much, much, worse than what they were at present.

True, his mistress was insane, but he had quickly learned it was a tactful madness that she tempered and controlled rather than vice versa. Punishments had gotten few and far between, though they did occur when a dark brooding mood took her senses thrall or he had bungled something horrible enough to displease her. And even when they did become happenstance, he realized it was never out of the blue, but tacked with some reason no matter how paltry the excuse to layer torment upon his wiry form.

She did not torment him for bored sport or to see him writhing in pain which was one thing he was utterly grateful for.

On most days now she spoke with him, instead of simply ordering him about like a mindless drudge as she had done before, and perhaps, he'd fancy to privately reason, that had made the magical lashes stop being so frequent.

Maybe she was beginning to see or even realize for the first time that he truly had considerations and feelings and wasn't some sort of dumb beast meant to be goaded by pain to bend to her bidding.

As it was, he too was coming to realize there was something more behind the mask of madness that she veiled her features with constantly and shrouded about herself.

She held the disguise of insanity no matter what circumstance, save when she was at her most comfortable which was often nestled in a plush high backed armchair in her library with a cup of tea while perusing a dusty ancient tome.

He would often steal glances at her whilst he cleaned or trimmed up about the extensive, lavished chamber trying to figure out why she seemed so normal…so human instead of the beastly woman she could become when it fancied her.

Her pallid brow would often knit in thin lines of concentration as her flawless cobalt eyes drunk in the scrawled letters before her like a parched man did water. And for those few, odd moments she almost appeared lovely, tame, and sane to the point where Rum could have sworn there were two separate beings instead of simply the Dark One, but perhaps that too was part of the insanity of his indomitable mistress.

~8~8~

"I want a story, Rum." Belle stated primly, her hands encircling a warm tea cup as she languidly scanned the lanky figure standing before her.

The fragrant steam wafted about her face and curled away into the drafty currents that steeped along the corridors of the Dark Cast as her cerulean eyes stared precociously at her slave tending to their meal.

Belle didn't demand the former cripple to share a midday meal with her very often, but at times the want of his company outside of bed took a curious notion in her mind that ended up with him accompanying her in the main hall for luncheon instead of his usual haunt in the kitchen after she had finished dining.

In some way it was a recourse for the pair to get to know one another better without his complete timid aura making him tense at her every slight move or her utter insanity that could snap at a moment that usually defined their contrasts.

The former spinner nodded dutifully as he carefully served out a number of finger foods for his mistress and then himself. "Would you care for me fetch you a book from the library, milady?"

"Not at present." Belle replied with a surreptitious shake of the head that caused her dark amber curls to tumble down her shoulder. Tapping the side of her jaw with her delicate finger, the Dark One's indigo orbs glimmered in curiosity. "No, I want to hear about that leg of yours." She finished, her head dipping faintly to his healed limb.

The deadly beauty couldn't have helped but notice the nasty myriad of thick fleshy scars that swathed along his knee and leg when she had, as usual, sent him away from her bed the previous night. She had never noticed such injuries that held testament to some gruesome, maimed tradegy concerning his limb until that night; sparking an inturige inside her.

"One has to wonder how it wasn't taken off by whatever disaster you met." She observed before taking a small nip of the warm brew.

Of all things, why did her insatiable curiosity desire to know more about that! The former cripple turned his face away trying to hide the scorching press of shame that bloomed to an inferno upon his scruffy features. There seemed no way to forget or ignore the brands of his cowardice that laced and traced upon his leg as if a hand of judgment had inscribed upon his flesh and blood the tale of his fear for the world to see.

"There are far better tales than the misfortune of a peasant turned beggar, Mistress." He dodged tactfully before taking a tasteless bite of the small meal that felt as ash on his tongue.

"Yet I am curious of yours." The Dark One retorted with a mildly irked snort at his clever evasion. "Speak. If your tale pleases me I may just reward you for your story telling." She ordered simply leaving no room for subject changing.

Knowing pain would follow if he did not obey, Rum sighed dejectedly, his chipped cup turning absently in his hands as he thought of a way to begin his tale of his crippled existence. "When I was young I served as a spearman in our king's army. I didn't want to, but the savage ogres and their chieftains were looking to expand their territory and force us into servitude. So the king rallied peasant and noble alike to drive them back to their black marshes."

The former spinner snorted once at he gazed into the brown brew to stare in disgust at his scraggly reflection rippling in the mud hued liquid. "It was a dark day, the skies were mugged with the haze of summer sun and dust and thick oily black smoke from burning bodies that curled up to block even the most stalwart and stubborn suns rays so that it was more akin to a cloudy afternoon.

The ogres had hit early, before the sun had even risen, and had relentlessly pressed the attack; forcing us back to out borders hour by hour until we were on the side of our homeland once again.

I may have only been a peasant footman, but I was quick footed even in leather armor and since all our scouts and runners had been torn limb from limb once they had been seized by the foe, I got the job of relaying messages to the commanders and scaling the sparse knolls and outcroppings face to see our enemies position to relate to our leaders."

The memories of that day were as clear as if they had occurred a few moments before. He could still smell the fetid stench of fear and rivers of black and crimson blood mingled with glimmering flecks of blood stained steel and charred corpses that still heaved acrid whiffs of decay and boiling bile. The vile aroma of strings of guts pooling out of bodies and the cries of the mortally wounded still haunted his memories, making Rum flinch slightly.

A part of the spinner hope that at least that part of the tale spoke for itself and perhaps she'd see it was a hard thing to recall. It was no surprise, however, when she callously tilted her head; prodding him silently to continue while completely oblivious to his pain.

"It was late in the day and half our forces were either dead or wounded on the field, and the barbarians still kept coming like a never ending tide of flesh and blood and steel that washed over us. It was then our king, perhaps torn with grief or desperation, decided upon a mad scheme to win the day. He made a rousing speech to the remnants of our legions of honor and glory and tenacity and how we would that day, under the apex of the summer, hold the line to keep the ogres from our lands.

It truly was a rousing speech that goaded the warrior to stand and fight and rallied the heart of the footmen and knights alike, but being the scout I had the unfortunate task of scanning the field whilst the stalwart warriors took their places and prepared for our desperate stand.

Ogres were still pouring out from their war camps even as we fought their kin at our borderland. They outnumbered us ten to one and there were even more marching from afar in a cloud of dust that looked akin to a sand storm about to barrel down upon our heads in its terrible fury. We didn't stand a bloody chance." He spat in disgust like a venomous curse. "Our best bet would have been to flee to the sheep hills where the lumbering brutes would be hard pressed to pursue us and we could hit them far better than on an open field, which favored their massive bulk and strength, but our king was determined to stand our ground that day at our borders.

We did fight with unmatched ferocity, but there's only so much courage and heart can do against three ogres that spring up after one is torn down and vanquished. They had reinforcements to spare whilst every one of ours that was cut down could not be replaced. As the fight went on I knew for all their bravery it was for naught. I realized that our king's noble choice would slay us all.

So, craven coward that I am, I dropped my spear and ran for my life. I had nearly made it to the safety of the steep sheep hills when a huge ogre's stray arrow skewered my leg like a spear."

A muscles jerked in Rum's jaw as a hand slipped under the table to knead his healed leg on instinct as he recalled the sharp whistling sound that peirced the air then the sickening noise of the shaft sinking into his flesh and the spurts of warm blood erupting from his limb.

"With desperate adrenaline fueled strength, I managed to break it and pull it out to staunch the gushes of blood with gummy patches of muddied dirt and grass and ripped strips of cloth and ultimately scrambled away leaving the brave warriors behind to meet their fates as I sought refuge.

Using a few peasant remedies and poultices of the wildly growing herbs that grew abundant in the hills, I managed to save my leg before it could succumb to infection or withering, but it was useless ever afterwards leaving me a filthy cripple."

"But did the kings men stave off the ogres?" Belle inquired, entranced by his tale, her meal and tea cold and forgotten.

Rum nodded sadly, a dour frown etched grimly upon his lips. "They did. Good, far more courageous men with more heart and honor than I fought and died that day; driving the ogres from our borders.

As the king had swore upon his blade and heart they did indeed hold the ogres at bay that day, but it was for naught though for the next day the ogres stomped across our borders anyway. For the king's men were left with only a spattering of mostly wounded forces that had bled their hearts dry the day before and had nothing left to give to defend our land.

In the end our king fell to an ogres spear and his son, the quickly crowned heir and dubbed new monarch of the realm, was forced to pay tribute to the ogres in order for them not to competently crush and enslave us, and I dragged myself back to my village as a cripple and a disgraced coward."

For a moment all remained silent between the pair as they picked at their cold meals; neither very hungry after such a harrowing tale as they both plaintively searched their thoughts.

Belle was certain there was more to the story than was told, but oddly enough a small glimmer of regret for asking spawned in the darkness of her heart that sparked a rare moment of tenderness to her slave.

She more, than anyone, knew the hefty toll of war and sacrifice and for that he gained a faint speck of understanding and sympathy even though she showed nothing of the sort of her lovely features.

Turning her cerulean eyes away from the morose vapid stare Rum possessed, the dangerous beauty shrugged as she absently twirled a spell clever finger around a lock of chestnut curls. "You are not a coward; you're perceptive. There is a thin line between courage and utter stupidity, Rum. Your king made a foolhardy choice in standing that day."

"How do you figure, mistress?" He replied in a depraved snort that brimmed with self loathing.

"You're alive aren't you?" She asked slyly with a perched brow. "Which is more than you can say for your king and his supposed honor and glory."

Rum paused at her words, his thoughts dancing with her odd outlook upon the memories that plagued him so. Daring to lift his warm maple orbs from blinking dully at the table the former spinner glanced her way to read the thoughts dancing upon her disturbingly gorgeous features. A small part of him thought he sensed and understanding in her, before it vanished as dew upon the earth, and he cast his eyes down again least she notice and scold him.

He had never considered that. But then what had living wrought him? A wife who detested being wed to a coward and a son whose young years were filled with taunts about a spineless cripple for a father and filled with back breaking labor to aid the man who fled the battle?

A mirthless chuckle fell lamely from his lips as he took a sip of the cold brew. "Perhaps it would have been better if I wasn't spared."

"Nonsense!" Belle scolded sharply, but her lips were upturned mischievously. "If you didn't live I'd have no one to clean the Dark Castle and terrify for all eternity." The word 'company' had nearly escaped her lips, but she bit it back with a determined will that had her mind ringing in alarm at why such a thing would dare even begin to leave her mouth.

The meek spinner let a thin smile crease his lips at her jest, taken aback from what might have been considered a kindness of sorts; in his mistress' own strange way. "Well then I'm grateful I am not completely useless to everyone."

Both shared a small laugh at the quip before drifting into an awkward silence that pulsated around them like a thick mist wafting across their skin. Was such supposed to happen a twixt them?

"You may fetch a book for me now, Rum. The red one on the stand by my chair. Then you may start working on the upstairs guestrooms." The beautiful Dark One ordered imperiously as she called upon her magic to warm the small cup in her hands; trying desperately to banish the utter awkwardness that had sprung from their brief shared laughter.

The former spinner bowed his head once as he slid from his chair and gathered a few of the gilded cutlery and plates. "Yes, milady." He replied obediently his demeanor back to a cowardly beggar constantly treading upon eggshells around his mad captor least he meet some sort of punishment.

An insane giggle erupted from the beauty's lips at his fearfulness of her as they went back to being mistress and slave.

However, as the former spinner scuffled away to attended to his tasks, the beauty hid a small special grin that she couldn't suppress from the behind the glided rim of her cup. It was a small grin, barely one that twitched at the edge of her lips, but one that hadn't graced her lush pink mouth in long, long centuries.

**~8~8~**

_A/N: I had a lot of fun writing Rum's history. Hope you guys enjoyed my own little version of his busted leg, too. :3_


	7. Ease

_A/N: Thanks for taking the time to read and the stellar reviews. Hugs for all :3_

**~8~8~**

"What exactly do you think you're doing, Rum?" The gorgeous Dark One inquired with a mock serious air that held just a hint of mischievousness to flit the edge of her even tone.

Golden rays of morning sun cascaded through the monolithic windows of the main hall, warming the richly gilt chamber and the magical, russet haired woman who languished comfortably upon a plush window seat.

She looked fetching, in her own vile way, garbbed in a light crimson, sleevless gown that fell to her ankles and had a modest V neck line. A necklace gilt of fine gold was crafted in the shape of an entwined dragon devoring its own tail; with small faceted emeralds for sinister eyes, set gently upon the gold filigree, that seemed to peer incredulously at whoever her gaze fell upon.

A large tome leather backed tome of blue rested in her hands, as one book or other usually did when she wasn't raving and muttering to herself or in her apothecary concocting venoms and elixirs to ply deals with those who desperately required her tonics.

Rum all but blanched at the displeased timbre of her voice that usually promised pain in the near future. Halting his trek towards the winding dim stairwell that led to the second floor he bowed once in his most subservient, and rubbed the back of his sweat pricked neck nervously as if he had done something wrong.

"I…you commanded me to clean the upstairs a week ago. I'm nearly done." He replied meekly, his body tensing for pain to gnash across his straggly figure at some offense he had probably unwittingly committed that displeased her.

"Yes, but I also promised you that if your tale pleased me well enough, I would reward your story telling." Belle reminded him as she closed the leather backed book in her grasp and shifted to a more favorable position like a gracefully lounging cat that was too lazy toy with a frightened mouse it had caught.

A small smile played upon her pink lips as she made a dismissing gesture towards him and sighed languidly at his anxiousness. "No work for today. Only serve my meals and feed Brimstone and you may do as you please."

"Truly…?" He asked timidly and with more than a trifle of skepticism, before he could snap the foolish words away. His worn brow furrowed with wary untrusting, but also with trepidation that danced in his warm brown eyes at his bold inquiry that perhaps might set off her temper.

Why would she allow him such a thing simply because he had related his tale of abject woe? Did even she, the most mad, uncaring person he'd ever known of feel an inkling of pity for lot the cruel hand of fate had dealt him?

"Oh course truly." The vile beauty retorted with a derisive snort as she thumbed the blood scrawled ancient tome back open to her dog eared page; not giving him another moment of her reading time. "I never say thing I don't mean. Now off with you, beggar before I decided to use you for some experiment or other."

Still shocked at his sudden good fortune, Rum nodded dutifully knowing her threat while in a jesting way, could turn deadly serious at any second she deemed to fancy such.

Walking away like a prey that had been spared from a hunter, the former spinner began to back out of the lavish main hall. "Of course, mistress. Thank you." He replied gratefully before slipping out back towards the stables his mind spinning in a brilliant kalidiscope of thoughts.

What could he possibly do with a day all to himself? Get some well earned rest, most definitely, but other than that what was there possibly to fritter his repose of ease away upon?

The once beggar treked slowly down the now neatly trimmed and swept path that led to his domiclie in the stables as he studiously pondered his unexpected mostly chore-less day. He couldn't spend his hours wandering about the Dark Castle, nor did he particularly desire to feel his mistress' eyes on him that might lead to her…wants.

Perhaps he might explore the vast esate grounds? That would at least put some distance between them and give him something to do.

A sudden slight smiled bloomed upon his scruffy features before he nodded once to himself of the idea as he entered the cool stables and crumpled back to his bed of straw heaped in the small stall for a much earned late reprieve of slumber.

~8~8~

As much as Belle laothed to admit it, a part of her was disappointed Rum had chosen not to come anyhere near the Dark Castle. Of course he always came wandering about at meal times to serve her, but then scurried as far away as possible to roam about the grounds and plumb its long forgotten mysteries that should have been left to the passage of time.

A part of her also knew in a logical fashion that he was her prisoner and she was an insane being of unfathomable power with a hair trigger temper that could snap as easily as the wind could change course. Of course he didn't want to be around her!

Belle let out and incredulous snort as she absently skimmed through a forbidden tome relating the knowledge curses in a horrific detailed fashion of their side affects and their misuse if something where to go amiss when casting such vile magic's.

While her mind should have been concentrating on the crimson scrawled letters of warning and allure for the dark arts concering Regina's longed curse, she couldn't help her thoughts teetering back to her Rum like some loadstone pulled to the north star.

Yes, all logic demanded, reasoned even, that he didn't want to spend more time around her than he absolutely had to, but logic did not make her feel any less lonely.

At least when he toiled in her sanctum she could hear him bumbling around or humming some little peasant tune under his breath as he labored. Now with him exploring her vast estate grounds the Dark Castle felt once more as a deserted, albeit, cleaner crypt of ages past.

"You were perfectly satisfied before that cripple stumbled upon our sanctuary. Now forget about him and pay attention!" Belle muttered to herself with a scolding snarl that showed a bit of her teeth like an irked beast that had been prodded.

Focusing all her will back towards the faded pages of the blasphemous tome that was crumpling to the weight of age, the beauty concentrated upon it for all of ten slow seconds before she growled a foul curse and slammed the book shut. The motion cased a plume of gray dust to erupt from the pages and dance in the dusk suns rays as the Dark One slipped off her warm perch and set off to find her slave.

~8~8~

Rumpelstiltskin smiled widely, unusually pleased with himself, as he finished tying the last leather thong in place around the final notch of the hollow wood.

A series of five cut pieces of dun hued, light, hollowed wood were placed in a row, though at the ends all where cut in a slant shorter than the previous one.

On his venture about the extensive land of his mistress, the former spinner stumbled across a small coppice of such wood at the far end of the grounds at the south end of the estate. It had been as if they were purposefully planted there for use of making mock weapons for training knights and squires or even toys for children.

In fact the more he traversed his mistress' enchanted lands, that could dissuade any intruder with good sense from traipsing over the ill kempt grounds, the more he was coming to see that before there had not simply been the Dark Castle and a stable but far more buildings that had been crumpled or blown down leaving only weed ridden ruins covered in ivy and choking weeds.

He had even discovered an old garden, which was now overrun with ragweed and prickly thorn bushes, had stretched at a good length over the trects of land, and had supposedly meandered about the Castle foundation long ago.

If he didn't know better, the spinner might have even considered the Dark Castle had been beautiful once upon a time. But just like it's mistress it was a beauty tainted that made it sordid and hideous and terrifying to gaze upon without feeling a hint of revulsion at its lovely grotesqueness.

Stashing the curious thought away, Rum observed his handy work of the pan pipes before pressing them to his lips to give them a test. The noise was hollow and shrill like a weak whistle at first that made Brimstone snort as if in displeasure and twitch his ears in an irked fashion of the less than pleasant ruckus that was disturbing his nap time.

The former beggar flicked his warm maple gaze towards the monstrous beast, that slightly stamped its ember glowed hooves in agitation.

Rum pursed his lips shrewdly in contempt at what he was almost certain was an annoyed huff from the beast of nightmare. "Hush, you, I haven't played one of these in years." He revealed with a mock offended sniff and a well hidden smile that would have held testament to his amusement that a horse could be annoyed.

Taking a deep breath, the spinner put the instrument to his lips again and forced his breath to exhale at an even, soft measure that whispered across the hollow wood as tender wind did upon the blades of grass.

The music was gentle and sweet and drifted along the mildly cool air of falling dusk in a pleasant tune that emanated delicately from the bucolic instrument.

His old skill of the pipes came back to his senses almost instantly, aiding him to play a few old peasant harmonies and some rural melodies from his youth that were lovely and serene in the hazy sun fall.

He had often played to past the hours tending sheep when he'd been a spinner or using the instrument to lull his son to sleep those nights when babies where wailing with the entire force their little lungs could muster. The notes, so soft and pure, had always lured Bae into the realm of slumber when he'd been a babe no matter how fussy he was or how much he deemed to wail.

As each note drifted through the slightly musty air that smelled faintly of straw, earth, and manure, the former spinner thought of home and what his life could have been had he not a coward and a cripple and what his life had been like as a cowering, maimed deserter.

Sometimes he missed his freedom and his old life, but even now he knew to some degree, that time had passed away never to be grasped again. What had happened could never be undone and without Belle taking him thrall he would more than likely have perished from starvation or sating the hunger of a prowling beast that had found itself an easy meal in a helpless cripple.

In some way he should have been gratful to Belle, for without her he would still have no purpose other than wallowing in his miserable mire of thoughts and limping beraggeled till the end of his time in whatever way death came to spirit him away.

Suddenly shaking his head, the former spinner scolded himself for allowing his mind to wander to Belle. He didn't know why his thoughts centered about his mistress more often than not now, even when he began to think of family then pondered upon her instead. A bit of warning hissed softly through his mind, but Rum brushed it away as he once again focused on the tune and not the troubling notions in his mind.

Slowly the notes began to die away, their melody drifting fainter and slower until it seemed as though they would simply waft away with the whispering wind.

"That was beautiful." Belle commended trying to hide her breathlessness as the last notes of a mournful ditty of longing and lost was away with the dusty dusk wind.

The last of the breath whistling over the pipes fell sharp and rankled as the former spinner jumped at her sudden voice so close nearby. How long had she been listening?

Hiding the crafted item behind his coarse brown tunic, Rum turn swiftly and offered a deep bow to his mistress who seemed to have appeared from thin air to sit on a stool behind him.

Her brow was furrowed in contemplation and consideration while her fingers still rapped in quiet rhythm of the tune upon the wood siding.

"Forgive me, mistress, I wasn't aware you were here." He stated waveringly in apology as if she would snap upon him for not regarding her.

Belle smirked slightly as she waved her hand laconically towards his general direction as she crossed her legs studiously. "You wouldn't have been; I've only been here since you made that little comment to Brimstone." She chuckled briefly her lips tipping upwards. "And they say I'm crazy. At least I don't talk to dumb beast, present company excluded of course." The vile beauty added cruelly.

Something akin to a slight crimson vaguely hinted at Rum's cheeks as he dipped his head subserviently once more, excepting her taunting remark knowing it was for him rather than her coveted horse. "Well, he does make as good an audience as any."

As if on cue, the beast swished its intangible, ethereal tail of wispy black smoke and bobbed his head once as if replying something tart about being so rudely interrupted of his nap time.

"I didn't know you could play?" Belle revealed as she scanned the spinner. "Tell me, what tune was that you just finished?"

"It's called the Butterfly, milady." Rum replied nervously as he brought the simple instrument forward for her inspection.

Belle nodded absently at his words as she ran her delicate fingers across the grain and inspected the hastily crafted piece with a knowledgeable precision.

The song had been aptly named, for as the soft tones had drifted about in the warmed air, she could almost imagine a butterfly dipping and buffeting its silky gauzed wings through the summer noon as it danced upon the slight breeze and rested upon the buttercups and asphodels that profusely dotted the waving tall grass of the estate grounds in a soft velvet blanket of purples and gold's.

"I-if milady is displeased with the noise I'll not pick it up again." Rum assured her, his whiskey hued eyes never leaving her lips to catch even an inkling of her instantaneous emotions that held his health and life in the tenuous balance of her moods.

Belle shook her head sagely, attempting to calm his fears of punishment as she handed the item back to her slave. "It's quite beautiful actually. I might have you play in the Dark Castle when I'm bored enough." The vile beauty began as she stood and padded sultrily towards her Rum. "I actually came here for something different.

Snickering mischievously, the Dark One ran her hands under the former cripples tunic and tapered her delicate fingers upwards along his chest towards his rapidly beating heart that felt as though it somersaulting in his lanky frame.

Rum attempted to conceal a wince of fear and slight nausea at the sickening longing touch of her warm hands resting on his chest, but couldn't. His hands curled into tight fists at his sides in hoping his stony demeanor would dissuade whatever swirling mass of unpleasantness she had in mind.

"What else did you come to see me for?" He dare inquire, actually hoping she might become displeased with his questioning and leave him be.

Her fingers wove through the sparse bit of chest hair as she leaned in closer to him, her indigo orbs ablaze in mischief that did not foretell her wants exactly at that moment, but soon.

A miniscule grin graced her disturbingly lovely features as she suddenly let her hands stop combing through his chest hair and giggled slyly. "Tell me, Rum, how is your acting…?"


	8. Deception

_A/N: Just got to say thanks again for reading and reviewing. You guys are great. Fist bump. :3_

**~8~8~**

The faded orange light of the crackling fireplace in the main hall cast odd shadows to cajole against the tapestries of the dimly lit chamber that felt oddly bereft of its normally sinister air. There was a break in the normal routine of things, as it had been since the Dark One had paid a visit to her slave that day in the stables.

Usually, the vile beauty would be relaxing in the plush burgundy armchair in front of the hearth's dancing, gluttonous, flames, flipping through a new tome, perhaps contemplating her dark thoughts when a black mood ensnared her, or even sustaining her slave from dragging his exhausted figure back to the confines of the stable stall he called a room, to unwittingly prattle about things on her mind that concerned her. But tonight all thought of reading or brooding or even a pondering word with the former cripple where cast away and forgotten as she stared somberly at her Rum.

A delicate finger gently tapped the edge of her jaw thoughtfully as she encircled him; marking every detail of his wiry figure. Everything had to be just so, or the ruse would be an utter failure, and even if all went according to her scheme the variable that was her cowardly slave still would hold her plot in a tenuous balance.

"Mistress, I feel I am still ill prepared for this deception." Rum withered a touch as he gazed incredulously at himself in front of a large full length mirror that was usually covered in a thick drape of blue; his voice hoarse and low with his anxious admittance.

The dark sequoia wood surrounding the reflective surface was carved with sinuous tendrils that were akin to winding stems of flowers that curved and spiraled upward to thorny bloom of expertly crafted dewed roses chiseled upon the mulled crimson hued wood.

The former spinner was garbed in enough finery that could have probably paid an entire village expenses for a year and perhaps more!

Dark brown leather bequeathed his straggly figure from the thick dragon hide vest to the polished gleam of his supple boots and golden buckles that clung fittingly as would a second skin, making him look odd but dashing in some jumbled mixture that he didn't quite understand. The cuffs and ends of his tunic and vest were embroider with gold thread that almost felt as real as the ore itself.

These were garments that nobles donned themselves in, not a simple peasant turned beggar, then as if he couldn't have possibly reached any lower caste in his life, turned slave to the most infamous being in all the realms.

As his hands smoothed down the fine leather, the former spinner couldn't help but considered he must have felt like what a sheep in wolf's clothing would feel akin too or one of the harmless grass snakes with their marking just a trifle off from their truly venomous kin.

Belle snorted in irked lasciviousness at his trepidation as she stepped between Rum and his equally as unsure reflection to adjust a haphazard golden button that set askew upon the leather.

"Oh now do stop worrying, Rum. We've had an entire _long_ week of practice. The plan is simple, whilst I creep into Merlin's tower you shall draw that daft, rickety, old wizard's attention away as you waltz in to Camelot and answer Pendragon's plea for aid. Distract him successfully, perform the deal, and by the time you walk out the gates we'll be back inside the Dark Castle with the spoils." She giggled madly, her azure orbs glimmering in devilish delight of the enchanted theft about to occur and the rather ingenious deception.

A week. The former cripple drew a black grimace upon his lips as he mulled over her careless words as if she actually assumed one week would be enough to pull the wool over an ancient magician eyes and a court full of cunning advisors and perceptive nobles and stoic battle hardened knights not to mention the grand king himself insightful beyond words, or so rumor had told.

A week of quick lessons under her watchful eyes and the lances of pains when he displeased her, still hadn't made him feel prepared for what ruse he was about to pull.

"With all due respect, milady you still haven't told me what it is you're going after." Rum broached the question he reiterated at least once a day since her crazed plot had begun.

Why did she insist on him pretending to be the fabled Dark One and bartering with the king of Camelot for whatever it was the notorious war hungry monarch desired?

He truly didn't expect much of a response, seeing as though she had never answered him before, and once even punished him for it, after another failed attempt to become something that he was not, had pushed her to the very brink of what short fuse of patience she had.

But he would have liked to, at the very least, have a hint at exactly what trinket or treasure he was being forced to stick his neck out on the line for.

The beauty's eyes flickered to his, her lips upturning slightly at his sudden boldness. "Yes, it's about time, I suppose, to relate what I'm after." She paused for a moment, snapping her fingers to bring a few extra items, that had sprung to mind, forward in a misty hazy of ruby tinted magic, to add to the deceiving spinner's appearance. "It's a glass vial. An ancient artifact that can house unfathomable power in its crystalline depths."

"And why can you not simply overpower this crotchety old sorcerer, as you like to term him, and spirit the bottle away?" He dare inquire as he watched her spell clever fingers tack on and do away with a few items that did not complement his odd wear.

She was not averse to taking things that did not belong to her; he was as clear a testament to that as anything, so why did she need him to pose as the Dark One or something as equally as sinister?

"If I could, Rum, I would, but the vial is even older than my magic's. How that hoary bearded fraud managed to acquire the bottle is beyond me, but as it stands if he is near and know that someone seeks it he can call upon an enchantment to conceal the glass with its own power. I must delicately pluck the threads of his magic away and even after that comb the strands of the vial's power as well before I may steal it. And I can't very well do that and stave off an entire kingdom all at once." Her delicate brow knit incorrigibly as she made the finishing touch to the shining leather and backed away to admire her handiwork. "I can't afford him to banish the bottle to heaven knows where and have to track it down all over again."

The spinner nodded understandingly, even if he wasn't sure exactly certain how ancient magic's such as that even began to work, and bowed his head dutifully in servitude.

Belle sighed in irritation that bordered upon the realm of displeasure as she put her hand under his now clean shaven chin to lift his head to meet his warm brow eyes with her cold icy blue orbs. "For the thousandth time, Rum: eye contact. You cannot afford to be your timid beggar self, no matter how cowering you are truly. Remember they have only heard rumors of my existence, but if you are…well, you, they will see through the guise instantly and no matter how deviously extravagant you seem, they will know."

He knew her words were laced with truth, and the pain she let race through his body when he forgot was more than a little reminder and incentive for him to concentrate upon his task, but it was truly hard when his whole life had consisted of bowing and scraping to his betters and begging after that.

"Forgive me, mistress, old habits are hard to break." He apologized timidly.

The deadly beauty nodded absently, her scolding and temper already fallen away as wheat to a sharpened scythe, as she rubbed her chin thoughtfully and gave him one last good look over.

Most certainly he was dressed the part in fine leathers and gilt silver and gold buckles, but something still remained incomplete. "Hmm, something's missing here. You almost look the perfect figure, but your stature in and of itself is not invariably intimidating or terrifying."

A smile reserved for her most clever ideas etched upon her gorgeously disturbing features as she clapped her hands once summoning her vile gauzy crimson magic's to encircle the rigid Rum.

The former spinner screwed his eyes shut as the unpleasant feel of her corrupted powers skittered like hairy spiders upon his exposed flesh and shriveled his stomach to a dry husk.

The tendrils of scarlet coiled about his body with a slightly foul stench that caused sweat to intermittingly prick at the nape of his neck and brook down his brow. Biting his lower lip, he fought back a tremulous cry and a shiver as he felt something drape over him like a shroud of thick choking fog that muffled in his lungs and made him wheeze.

Once the feel of darkness and malignance fell away, the once cripple slowly pried his eyes open to view whatever her magic had wrought upon his sinewy form.

His eyes, once a warm chocolate brown were a hard marble onyx that was a dark and pitiless as a moonless night in mid winter and far colder as well. His skin was gray-gold and scaled like a dragon's hide, which shimmered in the soft pulsing glow of the hearth in the main hall.

For a moment all he could manage was to stare in abject fear entwined with amazement at the sudden transformation that coated over his true skin. He looked terrifying, a thing akin to the beasts of legend that haunted and prowled the darkened woods and dwelled in caves to prey upon lost souls and hapless wanderers. He was the Dark One.

"Don't fret it's only an illusion to give you a little more terror and credence to the tales whispered about me." Belle laughed whimsically as she brushed a few rebellious strands of dark chestnut hair from his now reptilian hued flesh, not minding in the least he looked rather beastly. "They've only but heard rumors of my existence, so the king will have no idea what to expect."

"As you say, mistress." Rum retorted waveringly, his now deep sable eyes once again instinctively falling to his polished boots and silver buckles.

The hard lines of her stony features softened as she chose not to rack his body with torment, for his blunder but instead patted his shoulder once in an almost encouragingly manner. "You are my slave, Rum, that fact alone gives you more prestige and a higher rank than any mortal king or noble. If you can't wrap your simple mind about that then just for tonight be… more than you are. To them you are a legend and you have reputation uphold as being mysterious and petrifying. Be exuberant, flagrant, outlandish and you may very well succeed."

Very suddenly her bolstering words, that put a bit of steel to his spine, evaporated as mist against the sun as she grabbed his supple if not slightly gaudy chestnut tinted vest, that creaked at the motion, and pulled him close; her timbre growling like a dangerous beast and startling cobalt orbs chiller than an icy night. "Yet if you fail me on this, know with the utmost certainty that you will wish with all your heart that Uther and his knights would run a lance through you before I use my magic to claim you."

~8~8~

"Do you think it will come?" A deep rumbling voice inquired worryingly as the echo of plated boots stomped rhythmically upon the stone floor; louder than the soothing heavy timbre of the king's tone.

Uther Pendragon was a burly brute of a man that earned the endearing nick-name from his people as the Bear. His reddish brown beard was full and thick and braided in some places, as deep lines of crows feet laced about his solid sapphire hued eyes that gleamed watery in the guttering torch light.

The monarch was garbed in his most resplendent mail armor and surrounded by his most trusted knights as he awaited the arrival of the legendary Dark One.

The elderly wizard, sitting contritely upon a high backed wooden chair, harrumphed indignantly as a small, growling cough flew past his white, frosty bearded lips. "That cannot be discerned until the stroke of midnight. As you well know I am more than against summoning this creature of myth to strike a bargain with, but you are king and your decision rests as final." The ancient sorcerer groused distempered as he swung his waist length, ivory beard behind one shoulder like a scarf and doffed his floppy azure hat grouchily.

A broad grin splayed upon the king's coarse tanned face as he offered a nervous bellowing laugh at the loyal, if cantankerous, magician. "Always so full of optimism, Merlin?" He chided sarcastically. "Would you dub a bumbling fool your king? If this creature of nightmare does make a price to high, I am wise enough to walk away. There is no harm in at least trying."

"I'd have to agree there with you, your Majesty." A sudden, sharp high pitched voice answered with an impish giggle that echoed unpleasantly about the lavish hall.

Knights, sorcerer, and king all wheeled about in surprise, blades and magic drawn as they turned upon the voice with white knuckles upon their weapons and muscled tensed for battle.

Rumpelstiltskin wore a loose, carefree smile, hoping his ease would make them tenser than he felt as he strolled slowly about the room in a meandering fashion as if he had been there all along.

Belle had granted him a few magical spells, parlor tricks compared to her magic, that would help make his image more believable, and had teleported him into the kings very own banquets hall where his men-at-arms, and advisors assembled as though he could by-pass any wards Merlin enchanted upon the castle.

Thin lines of revulsion marred across the kings usual jovial face as his deep set blue eyes scanned over the scaly monstrosity of the so called 'Dark One'. Low murmurs rumbled akin to far away thunder from the knights who rallied close to their king and glanced with the same sordid disgust at the gray-gold flesh that layered upon the spinner's skin.

"Something wrong?" Rum inquired in a light hearted giggle that made more than half the guardsmen flinch as he snatched up a golden jewel encrusted goblet to take a swing of the mead inside.

Of course he knew what they were all staring and muttering at, but even that fact gave him some sort of thrill. Was this how Belle felt when she stood in front of those whose fates she could help or deter to her fancy?

Uther's broad features barely masked his sudden nervous disturbance as he forced a stern grimace upon his hard face that had cowed more than one man. "Many rumors had often spoken of the Dark One being a disturbingly beautiful woman."

"Don't believe everything you hear." The fiend snickered nastily with a flippant air. Tenting his now scaled fingers the beast walked a few steps towards the king in what he hoped was confidence. "Now…uh, you sought me to strike a bargain. What do you require and what can you give me in return?" He hissed the last words in order for his voice not to tremble so terribly.

_More than you are. More than you are. _The disguised spinner repeated the words through his mind along with the growled warning from his mistress if he failed.

A moment of tremulous silence that thundered louder than any voice could have layered upon the host as the former spinner held his eye contact with the stoic mountain of a king who felt as though his eyes were boring into his skull and carefully weighing and judging the price of summoning the Dark One.

"My wife cannot have a child." He finally spoke lowly in a dire admittance as if in defeat. "I age more as time labors onward and as my kingdom grows. If I do not have an heir, all I have strived to obtain will be thrown into ruin and turmoil upon my death. For as long as any can remember the rumors of the Dark One have always been whispered. Tales of old spoke of your infamous potions and magic's that could do almost anything."

"All true." Rum admitted with a small nod, but wasn't exactly certain how much credence those words had. "Now I can make the potion to aid your wife in conceiving, but the question is what will you give me in return for my elixir? Such things don't come cheap you know." He chortled devilishly, his eyes ebony orbs scanning the gilded banquet chamber greedily.

The king made a nearly imperceptible nod as he clapped his thick, battle worn hands together imperiously. A knight scuffled forward bravely, a sword scabbard resting solemnly in his hands as he handed it to his lord and stepped away.

For a moment Rum's heart fluttered at the sight of the simple yet glorious weapon of ancient tales, thinking the king meant to slay him then and there. Belle had given him only a few spells to conjure and nothing to protect against steel.

"I offer you Excalibur, a sword that has been in my family for generations." Uther replied, his throat thick with regret as he tapered his calloused hands down the leather wound hilt and pommel.

Some day it might become his son's, if fate ever deemed him to reclaim it, but for now it was the only thing that would serve as a fair trade-off for the son he desperately craved and his people needed for the future.

Rum stood, staring transfixed upon the legendary blade. A father would trade something so precious for a son he knew not?

A warning rumbled thrummed from the king's as he mistook the stare as calculation and weight of the blade. "Is it insufficient?"

The veiled spinner could have cursed aloud for his hesitation that could have potentially given him away. No hesitation, which was the first rule his mistress had made him painfully aware of.

"Yes." He retorted in a grandiose lie that fell easily from his lips. "This is by no means a regular potion, but one that will endow your son with qualities that make him peerless to all others. Do you think a mere sword, no matter how shiny, will compare for such power?"

Eyes of solid cerulean akin to jewels glinted dangerously in the king's eyes in a wrath so deep, Rum fought the urge to take a hard swallow and stare down again and beg forgiveness for even daring to stand up to such royalty.

"Fine." The king spat through grit teeth as though an arrow was being pulled from his hide.

In one smooth motion he grabbed the pendant of his rank and status and yanked the golden chain off his neck in one tug proffering it to the gray-gold Rum. "A pendant of honor and courage; something I doubt you deserve, but it is valuable to me."

"Grand." The fiend paused as he nodded in mock severity. "But there is something else I desire."

Before the king could reply the disguised slave pointed a wiry talon to the disapproving, Merlin who scowled darkly from under a thick, wrinkled brow and a hard grimace of his bearded lips. "His hat, if you please."

At that, even the king had to blink in surprise and confusion. "His hat? Why?"

"It might rain." Rum laughed in a crazed fashion, remembering what Belle warned him about her reputation as insane and fetching the oddest of trinkets to suit her fancy.

"Madness." The king seethed quietly with a shake of his head, but beckoned the court magician to bring his hat.

The bearded old magician hobbled slowly towards the pair, his staff tapping in rhythm to his creaking gait that seemed as though his bones where attached with rusted hinges.

For a moment the whites of his aged yet clear old eyes scanned the fiend as though he could peer through the mire of his ruse, making Rum's heart pound in fear. Had he gone to far in demanding something more?

It was over a mere moment later as the elderly sorcerer pulled his slumped and wrinkled sky blue hat off and handed it to the veiled slave.

After all the items had been given to the fiend, Rum managed a small mocking bow and a vile smile from his thin gray lips as he turned upon his heel. "Well, king, your wife will have her potion by the morrow. You'll have a babe by autumn if all goes as you plan."

With that he used the last spell his mistress had put at his disposal and vanished in a wispy cloud of crimson fog leaving the court of Uther in a disjointed relief and turmoil of the deal struck.

Had the imposter been paying more attention to the rest of the warriors in the room, he might have noticed one younger knight sequestered in the back, his eyes wide in sheer astonishment.

~8~8~

A hard, nervous sigh of relief echoed from the spinner's lips as he stumbled in the main hall of the great Dark Castle. His body was tensed for pain and his mistress' sharp words of displeasure even as he took one wavering step to the large table to dump the contents in his arms upon it.

To him, he'd done a terrible job with his voice high pitched in nerves, and barely concealing his trembling, and shifty eyes. Not to mention a handful of blunders that she had no doubt witnessed.

She was probably working herself into a right fine rage even as the thought flooded him.

"Bravo Rum!" Belle exclaimed as she materialized behind him, a satisfied smile on her lovely features. "You bungle and yet you manage to strike a bargain all the same. Very commendable."

His shoulders slumped in relief at her pleasant tone as he nodded instantly going back to his normal, meek, self. She was in a fair mood, which he was more than gratful for. "Thank you, mistress."

Padding to stand beside him the beauty crossed her arms as she stared down at the items upon the table. "Not bad at all. A sword, his pendant, and…a hat."

"Merlin's hat to be exact, milady." He revealed dutifully, not quite containing a proud grin.

Part of him kept assuring himself it was only a gift to find favor with his mistress; delivering something so personal from a hated magician, but another bit of him considered he might have simply wanted to see her large grin which bloomed across her face at the knowledge.

"Well, well, this will be going into my collection." She giggled insanely, but very pleased as her flicked at the floppy tip of the hat. "You did rather exceptionally. A most convincing beast, even. If I didn't know better I might have even dubbed you the real Dark One."

About five seconds of silence passed between the pair before gales of raucous laughter erupted from them both simultaneously. Merry peals of amusement echoed about the coarse gray stone as they held their sides and leaned against the table or the mistress' chair in front of the fire place.

"Me a true Dark One!" Run roared in laughter as he slapped a hand to her forehead at the ludicrous notion.

"Ridiculous, I know." Belle chuckled as she held her sides, as trickling laughter brooked from her mouth. "Can you imagine the meek Rum becoming such a being! The very thought is preposterous!"

As their laughter died away the gorgeous beauty smiled unusually warmly at her slave who wiped misty tears of merriment from his now normal whiskey brown eyes. His warm, dark chestnut gaze was far lovelier than the cold midnight void that had once possessed his orbs.

He had done modestly well, and some part of her was involuntarily proud of him and touched in a way that he had garnered Merlin's famed hat as a gift almost. On an odd turn of kindness, the lovely Dark One snatched up the pendant of Uther lying with the fabled sword.

It was molded of solid gold with a dragon roaring and brandishing its claws with a ruby gems studding it intermittently. The very sign of the legendary king's power was worth a small fortune.

"Here." Belle stated as she offered the exquisite insignia of gold to her slave. "If you'll have it."

She was giving something so grand to him? Rum stared in shock at the surprise gift then back to her eyes that had gotten a tad warmer like a tenuous winter sky that was melting to a warm spring.

Taking it from her hand, the spinner clutched it close until he could feel the edges digging into his callous palm.

A small, genuine smile pricked at his lips as he swallowed nervous, but not in his usual fear of her and for once his eyes did not drop. "Thank you."

~8~8~

Back in Camelot, the sky was smeared in the drab gray of dawn that was slowly lightening into proper morning.

As the guardsmen were just beginning to change shifts upon the parapets and gates, one knight that had been present in the secret, blasphemous meeting with the Dark One stared out from a small squat tower his gray-green eyes absently searching the populace that was just begining skittering awake.

His hand drummed along the hilt of his sword at his hips as his thoughts swirled in a frenzied and wild contemplations of how his father had become the Dark One.

**~8~8~**

_A/N: That's right, guys and gals, Bae is older in this story cause… well little kids can get sucked through magical worm holes to other worlds, but they have to be older in order to run away :3_


	9. Reading

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! Also, writers block is not fun ._."_

**~8~8~**

After months of dwelling inside the Dark Castle the grand library was nearly fully rid of the dirt and dust that coated thickly in every crevice of the lavish room.

The swirled rose marble floors had been scrubbed and waxed to show the scruffy reflection of its dutiful caretaker, books were dusted, balustrades polished to a ruddy sheen, and the monolithic glimmering gold and diamond encrusted chandelier that swung upon the mural crested ceiling washed, and the towering windows scrubbed to a sparkling gleam that allowed the glorious rays of day to sink into the lavish sanctuary and cascade the tomes that festooned the walls with pure golden light.

To Rum it was unusual, but like the room and with a little hard labor on his part, the former spinner was beginning to see under the dust and grime that was marred upon his crazed mistress.

Smiles, true, sane smiles unlike her broad insane grins that heralded trouble or dark mischief came beckoned quicker to her lovely features alighting her face with warmth. A laugh of simple mirth brooked in a lovely tune from her lush pink lips, which was a far cry from the mad chuckles that rolled out of her mouth when she was caught in the throes of scheming. And beyond that, there appeared to be a regard that he was astounded that had grown between them, if only warily.

Of course she was still the Dark One, mad, and not without her many faults and mood changes that turned in a hearts beat, but there was something rather different now, as though the winds of their mingled fates had drifted from his servitude and her ordering to something far more delicate that one incident could shatter into a thousand emendable shards.

"And they lived happily ever after." Belle finished the last page of the hefty tome aloud with a content soft sigh.

A small grin pecked at her lips as she gently shut the black leather cased book almost solemnly. It had been a rather enjoyable, if not fanciful tale, of loves finding one another after being apart for years.

Part of the devious beauty's head was calculating where to put yet another tale completed to store away in her extensive library, while another bit of the vile sorceress watched her slave with an inward bout of amusement.

The former spinner was obliviously sweeping a small pile of gray dust in one smile pile as he stared at her as if an enchantment spell had been cast upon him.

His warm chestnut eyes stared at her precociously as his mouth hung slightly agape in awe. He looked more ensorcelled by her words than a sailor swimming after a deadly sea siren.

A mischievous smirk tugged at Belle's full lips as she once more opened the tome in a vagrant regal manner and cleared her throat haughtily. "And poor Rum was not paying heed to his sweeping. The _true _end."

The broom clattered loudly to the marble floor as Rum flushed in emmbarassment and nervousness at the call of his name. With a slight shake of his head, the once cripple loosened the grip that her soft and delicate words had clenched upon his mind with her reading of the story of loves lost and found. "Forgive me, mistress. I became distracted." He apologized before snatching the broom up to bend back to his task with more resolution. "I've never heard someone read so well before. Not even a bard. It's mesmerizing."

Touched by the sincere words from a man who should have more than loathed her very presence, the dangerous Dark One chuckled mildly as she proffered her hand languorously to the myriad of multi-colored tomes lining the walls. "Well you know you're always welcome to choose a book to peruse. After your chores are done of course, and I don't require your company in my chambers." She remarked unconcernedly before taking a sip of her tea.

A small chuckle rumbled past the timid Rum's throat as his lips upturned slightly in an amused ghost of a grin that flitted upon his features at her preposterous words.

"What's so funny?" Belle inquired casually, her interest only mildly peaked as her eyes began to scan the next mountain of books for her to delve into and for a little while pretend her life was not as harsh and horrid as it truly was.

Only books, and to a small extent, Rum were the only solace and balm that eased her hurt eternally raging in her soul. The tomes took her mind to another world to forget the tragedies that still plagued her and the pain coursing through her veins, and for Rum, well; he was more of the physical aspect that eased her troubles.

Rumpel shrugged in laconic carelessness as he sent a few particles of dust drifting into the air with the flick of the broom. "I can't read, mistress. I was a peasant all my life before I became a beggar. Reading is for nobles and royals, not serfs and vassals."

Was she truly so torn aloof from the realms which she despised and bartered with she didn't recall the cruel facts of life, where wars and famines and work made no time for such things as learning to read?

"Unacceptable!" Belle suddenly protested in righteous indignation, causing the former spinner to flinch in surprise at her adamant tone. Leaping up from her high-backed chair, the Dark One strode in long determined strides of to her Rum; her smoky blue eyes alight with a silvery flecks akin to cold, glinting steel.

"Slave or no I shall not have what belongs to me kept away from such knowledge. There are worlds scrawled upon these parchments, minds, thoughts, emotions blotted on every page and I shall not have you simply wallowing in your ignorance like a common peasant any longer." An almost pitying sigh echoed from her lips. "You are more than that now, Rum."

"I am?" He questioned in unsure tones as he briefly scratched his shaggy dirty brown mane. Although, admittedly, he was intrigued at the thought of finally being able to comprehend the black squiggly lines dictated across the yellowing pages his volatile mistress adored so.

"Of course you are." Belle nodded sagely with a slightly irked snort as if it should have been obvious to his sensibilities. "You are more than what you were, because now you are mine."

"What did you precisely have in mind, milady?" The spinner asked warily, his body taut and prepared for her unpleasant magic's should she choose to assail his body with such displeasure.

Snatching the wooden handle of the broom from his grasp, the beauty wielded it in her delicate grip like a war staff. "I shall instruct you in reading and writing lessons every day after our midday meal for two hours. Who knows, you might even learn to enjoy it." Giving him a knowing wink, the devious Dark One chuckled as she handed her slave back the broom. "If only were true for everything, eh?"

Despite the warmth in the room, a shiver of pure ice slithered up his spine at her mock sultry tone that once more laid bare the fact that she ordered him to share her bed.

It had gotten easier over the past few months, with at least most of the time he could quell the disgust bubbling and churning thick bile in his stomach, but if he had been given a choice there would be in way in all the realms he would decided to be with her.

Azure eyes scanned his look that spoke louder than words of the wretchedness he felt. A small chuckle escaped Belle's lips once more as she place a hand on his shoulder and guided him to one of the tables in the library. "Let's begin your first lesson, shall we."

~8~8~

As it turned out, Belle was coming to realize that despite a few irksome setbacks, Rum was an exceptionally fast learner. For a man who'd never picked up a tome save to swipe the dust from its cover or to sneak a cursory glance at a few of the pictures delicately painted upon the pages, he was bright and studious with his lessons.

For the two short hours sequestered in the library, the pair seemed to transform not into mistress and slave, but a rather patiently wise and tempered teacher and a clever pupil as she schooled him in the way of reading and writing.

Yes, normally she was pleased at his progress and accomplishments. Today, it took all of her strength not to snap upon him as a distempered dragon did a poor soul who had inadvertently wandered into their lair.

"No, no, no, you daft imbecile!" Belle roared as she snatched the quill from his trembling hand and dipped it in vigorous vengefulness in an ink pot that sprinkled the dark substance upon a few spare sheets of vellum.

A growl burst angrily from her throat as she scrawled a few words down upon the sheet before the meek spinner who cowered at her fury. "See. _Here _is how you do it, bumbling moron!" The vile beauty snarled as she scribbled the proper way to make the last few letters.

It wasn't that he had done something terribly bad; on the contrary he had done modestly well for a person newly learning of the world of letters and phrases. The problem was more to the beauty's frustrations of inner thoughts that plagued her without relent.

Now that she had the phial for containing a volatile brew of magic's, she had quickly learned that the hardest phase had to begin soon or the regents she had gathered would despoil and begin to rot away leaving months of work come raveling undone!

Everything had to be of the utmost perfection before she could begin to weave the threads of dark magic into the intricate web of the curse; something which she knew very clearly she wasn't looking forward to crafting.

Rum stared hard at the drying ink, his free hand balled into tight fists as he strove to fight the instinctive urge to shudder at her banshee like timbre screeching so close into his ear he was surprised the ear drum hadn't burst!

"Sorry. I'll do better next time." He whispered in appeasement as he dared flick an intrepid glance at his mistress to gauge just how wrathful her tempered flared.

Her eyes were hard as sapphire jewels as she thrust the raven quill back into his loose grip, not noticing how her heart leapt when she brushed her hands ever so lightly against his tanned flesh. "See that you do." She murmured dangerously as she sat back in her chair; her arms crossed dubiously in querulous warning.

Swallowing what felt like an entire boulder in his throat, the spinner forced his quaking nerves to steady while he began to draw the markings.

In some way, however, he knew it would be for naught. When she was in one of her anxious, distraught moods that was cunningly layered under a thick shielding façade of anger nothing would please her.

A small sigh past the meek Rum's dry lips as he paused from tracing the letter as turned to face her directly. "Is there something troubling you, mistress?" He asked suddenly in an odd flicker of courage that was tinted by hope that perhaps the question might spare him from pain he had a deep seeded notion was soon to barrel down mercilessly upon him.

Oh no, despite the fact that soon she would have to battle against fearsome magic's, that would require all her centuries of expertise and skill to maintain control and bend to her will, she was just grand!

A small warning sound like the dangerous growl of a wolf eked out of her mouth as she leaned closer to her slave, her azure orbs blazing in barely controlled wrath. "Now what would give you that idea, Rum?" She inquired sarcastically through grit teeth.

"You appear…worried." The former crippled observed as he toyed with the black quill and inwardly praising whatever deities that he could think of that she had not called her magic's down upon him to lash at his flesh.

Belle blinked a few times in surprise, her anger momentarily forgotten to contemplate just how he truly managed to swipe away the layers of fogged anger that veiled her true emotions to get to see her bare thoughts and feelings festering beneath.

With a flick of her wrist and a snort of rage, the dangerous beauty fell back into the leather armchair in almost a childish fashion. "It's none of your concern. Not that you would care anyway." She dodged brusquely as she swiped a lock of russet curls from her face.

It was the worst time for the fact to come upon him, but he did care, the meek spinner suddenly realized in a startling shock. A part of him detested seeing her lost in the morass of her troubled thoughts that deepened faint lines ever so slightly upon her brow and dimmed her gorgeous cobalt orbs. That fact staggered the timid Rum hard than any blow could have been struck upon his weedy form. He _cared_.

Tilting his head down, he studiously finished scratching the rest of the letter, his singular thought thundering through his mind. "If something's amiss, I'm always here to listen." He assured her so quietly that even Belle's sharp hearing barely caught it.

A muscle jerked sporadically in her jaw at his kind words. They were so unexpected, coming from his lips of all people that she had to replay them back in her mind simply to be sure she hadn't misheard.

A moment of palpable flitted between the pair; each not totally comprehending what had just been said. Had he just given her some form of support?

In another eye blink, the beauty laced her slave's body with a gnashing pain that hadn't been so severe since the very first time she had done so. Lances of fierce agony coursed mercilessly through his body and burned like scorpion venom in his blood, causing him to drop the quill and lurch forward as his wiry fingers vainly clawed at his scrawny chest and he writhed in abject torment.

Before he could even get a word out for mercy, the pain fell away as though it had never been and his mad mistress had disappeared in a hazy mist of her vile crimson magic's that left wispy trails of blood red fog to drift upon the currents of the Dark Castle looking akin to ruby smoke upon the wind.

~8~8~

"'I'm always here to listen'." Belle mocked her slave snidely as she materialized in a thick, billowing cloud of rose tinted magic inside her tower.

The vile beauty flew in a dark whirl about the room as she picked up things then discarded in a blind fury that flagrantly revealed her irritation and troublesome thoughts that hounded her.

Her collection of dark heretical books lays piled in haphazard stacks on the verge of tumbling to the grime ridden stone as she gusted through with the winds of a gale that ferried her temper aloft on its raging currents.

Him ready and willing to listen to her trouble? Hah! There was more chance of discovering she and Regina were long lost twin sisters!

Spewing a foul curse that would have put a sailor to shame, the beauty began a quick pace back and forth in her circular chamber to rake over her contemplations. Her boots thudded in a hard rhythmic tempo that seemed to beat in time with her jumbled thoughts that lay scattered and broken amidst the dark malignance of her mind.

Why did he have to lie? Why did every man she had ever known have to cast utter falsehoods from their filthy mouths? And why did she so desperately want to believe it from Rumpelstiltskin; to find more solace in him than her precious books as she had for so long?

Shaking her head determinedly, the insane Dark One pulled down a marked book, that looked as though it had been sewn together with patches of human flesh and written in dark blood, to peruse for more information relating to her dangerous task of curse conjuring.

No, she was no longer sweet, naive, day dreaming, cloud watching, Belle who had once whole heartedly believed in chivalry and bravery and _love_.

That was old Belle, and that person had been slaughtered and replaced with this powerful Belle who knew that to be brave and diplomatic and kind led to nothing but heartache and sorrow with in a deep and despondent mire of darkness.

This Belle knew how to bargain with those who needed her aid, and excelled in the skills of taking what she desired whether others wished her to or not. What did she have want of love and peace for when she could have anything at the snap of her spell clever digits!

But still…Rum's words had been purely sincere, or the closest she had ever come to it in all her long centuries of traversing the realms, which was in a way refreshing and to be frank altogether terrifying to her senses so used to lies and treachery.

He shouldn't have been so understanding with his softly spoken words that should have been laced with hate and bitterness. Rum wasn't predictable and that in itself put the dangerous Dark One off kilter to the point where she decided to watch her tongue carefully about her slave least she speak something utterly damning, but ultimately found herself drabbling along quite at ease with him.

Tossing her hands upwards in frustration at the whirling thoughts, Belle forced the spinner out her mind for a later date as she buried herself in the work that was to come. She could ponder her strange anomaly that was her slave at a later date if she, of course, had the courage to broach that subject again in her mind.

~8~8~

It was late before she finally managed to pull herself from the troubling tomes that foretold unfathomable pain for the task she was about to embark upon. The readings had only left her feeling more numb and anxious than she was already, filling her with a dreaded tension that coiled in the pit of her belly and sent chills racing up and down her spine at the mere thought of the pain about to be endured in a few rapidly approaching days.

Although she attempted the venture of sleep, the peace of that realm evaded her with its cunning tenacity that stoically barred her from even that modicum of tranquility of mindless oblivion.

The beauty padded upon shadowed steps as she quietly traversed the solemn dankness of her citadel. Even though the muffled quiet was soothing, her mind refused to leave what harrowing terror she would rankle from her century's ancient soul with the powers of her magic entwining with the curse.

So, without much to do save worry, the exaggerate beauty wandered amidst the dark and cold of her keep akin to a sorrowful wraith with out anywhere to lay for its eternal slumber.

Almost upon instinct, as though drawn by a lead, the beauty found her way to the lower tier of the Dark Castle and the kitchens.

Her belly gurgled demandingly in want of food that she had denied it as she sniffed the pleasant aroma of tea wafting about the cold drafts of air.

Tea? The vile Dark One's brow knit ponderously as she sneaked in close to the door. Why did she smell the soothing scent that subtly eased part of her worry?

Opening the large wooden door a crack, the fiend peered inside curiously, her magic's ready to ensnare another victim just in case some other being had managed to wander into her sanctum like her slave had done.

Her magic fell away almost immediately as she saw her slave in the dank red-orange, ember pulsing light of a hearth stove, sitting at a small table.

The kettle beside him funneled milky steam out of its stem as did his filled chipped cup she let him use rather than her finer porcelain. However the tea was forgotten as he sat hunched over the table, with a heap of parchment and a quill with a tarnished inkpot to the side.

Even in the soft light, she could see his fingertips stained with the midnight hued ink that bespoke of his hard work in learning the skills.

Making her steps completely muffled with a small spell, the beauty padded over to him and looked over his shoulder with an air of cat like curiosity that couldn't be suppressed.

The meek spinner was vapidly tracing his name in a tortuously slow motion upon the paper like his very life deepened upon it. Each letter was scratched and scrawled in hard, stark lines that nearly seemed as though they would rip through the paper and blot the table beneath with the midnight ink.

Belle stared upon the sight for a moment before a small smiled bloomed to her lips. If there was one thing to say about her Rum he was determined even if he was making a mess.

"Here, let me show you a better way." Belle stated suddenly, her calm voice sounding disconcerting in the silence that only held the hypnotic crackling of the wood from the hearth.

Rum flinched at the voice suddenly behind him that brought unpleasant memories of earlier bolting back to his mind with an incredible speed.

Before he could leap up and plead for mercy or apologize for some blunder, the beauty tenderly placed her hand over his own.

Her spell clever fingers molded his calloused ones into the right position upon the raven quill with her learned skill. "It's all in the penmanship." She stated kindly as she cupped her hand upon his own.

Gently, she began to move her hand which in turn prodded his to mark across the parchment.

The tip of the blackened quill barely flitted upon the parchment as they graced and skimmed over it delicately, hand in hand until his full, long name was written before him.

Belle had to stare at the well written letters that made his previous work look very literally like chicken scratch that had tinted by dark ink.

Putting the pen back into the inkpot, the spinner cleared his throat nervously, his hand convulsing. "Thank you, Mistress."

There it was again, more sincerity, Belle thought ponderously as she stared deep into his warm dark brown eyes that held flecks of red from the embers in the hearth. Could what he said earlier truly be genuine?

Brushing the though away before it could do any true damage, the beauty smiled demurely, a small, nearly awkward, laugh softly departing from her mouth. "Think nothing of it. I just don't want you ripping holes in the paper and marring my tables with ink."

Rum offered a small, weak smile that warmed Belle as he dutifully rounded up another cup to pour her a spot of tea as well.

He tried so hard to keep her pleased, either out of fear of some skewed form of consideration. Perhaps it was the looming knowledge that she held his pain in her grip whenever she deemed to use it, but just from the tender glimmer in his glassy eyes, the disturbing beauty doubted pain was the only prodding.

"I'm sorry." Belle revealed softly before she could halt herself. "I'm sorry for punishing you today. You did not deserve it."

The words surprised the timid spinner more than it truly did the Dark One. Never had he heard her apologize about anything. Something truly must have been amiss for her to start offering apologies, especially to him.

A larger, more sure, understanding, grin blossomed upon Rum's scruffy features as he pulled a chair out for her.

Belle grinned in return, her heart stirring in something she had thought long dead in the dark corners of her spirit, and at least for a small while the gnashing thoughts of what awaited her in a few days was staved off by his warm presence and whiskey brown eyes.


	10. Blood

_A/N: Much love for reading and reviewing, you guys are awesome :3_

**~8~8~**

Brimstone snorted in aloof happiness, sending a churning cloud of soot billowing into the air, as Rumpelstiltskin finished brushing the beasts coarse midnight hide that was still damp with night dew from gallivanting across the realms with its mistress.

The unearthly horse swished its ethereal tendrils of misty ebony tail and stamped its mulled crimson glowing hooves, revealing his contentment with being dotted upon.

"The Devil's Steed." Rum murmured sarcastically in an amused snort as he rolled his warm chestnut eyes.

He had learned from a few tomes, Belle allowed him to take from the library, the whispered moniker was one name superstitious peasants dubbed the ancient stallion, though Rum had come to learn rather quickly it was not an apt name by any stretch of the imagination.

A ghost of a smile pecked at his lips as he flicked a stray bur from the fearsome looking beast's spidery mane. " You're more like a spoiled, prancing pony than a beast torn from nightmare."

Legend had been long enshrouded about the battle craving, blood thirsty horse, with charcoal pits for eyes, born of a blasphemous pact in the midst of a moonless night harnessing the pure strength of evil. The tales often spoke of the untamable, rabid, fearless stallion daring enough to chase thunder from the heavens as it broke its bindings of flame and galloped from the gates of Tartarus with its would-be tamers being dragged behind or trampled under its ember glowing hooves.

Ironically, however, the magical horse was little more than a normal steed who was admittedly, a bit spoiled and had an unabashed penchant for sweets and liked to take to many naps when not in service to its crazed mistress.

"You served our mistress well." He stated cheerily as he patted the beast, proudly on its muscled shoulder.

Per usual, the sinister stallion rolled its flaming cinder eyes that emanated a fiery orange radiance and tossed its head as though it already knew such and was merely humoring the human that his mistress owned.

Although, Rum had no clue what the devilish beast tried to communicate, he liked to draw conclusions by the way it snorted or pawed at his words. The meek spinner grinned broadly as he ruffled the patch of thick mane tapered from behind its twitching ears. "Well enough, I think, to deserve a handful of sugar cubes." He jested with a slight chuckle.

At the mention of the one thing all horses, conjured of dark magic or no, adored, the hulking beast snorted in approval and seemed to finally beam at the spinners praise.

"I see you've lost your fear of Brimstone." Belle pointed out with an amused tone, a small smirk gracing her flawless features. "It's amusing to think the first days of tending him you looked like a frightened rabbit caught in front of a starving wolf."

The spinner's head shot up to see his mistress leaning nonchalantly against the stable threshold, her arms crossed upon her flamboyant black and crimson silken blouse as she stared not tenderly but definitely not crazed at slave and stallion.

Shrugging laconically, Rum turned his eyes down out of habit as he collected the tools from brushing down Brimstone after one of his mighty gallops throughout the realms.

He could only imagine the abject terror as the animal, looking as though it had charged from the eternal pits of hell, came thundering into sight in all its nightmarish glory with the Dark One riding upon it; nostrils flaring and churning oily black smoke and eyes rolling madly.

If only others knew how utterly spoiled and haughty Brimstone acted, he was certain fear would be replaced with amusement at the steeds dramatic entrances.

"When you get to know someone it's easy to see what lies beneath what you once thought terrifying." He explained gently while he put the last tool away upon the stone selves.

His words were spoken in a tempered, soft timbre that made Belle ponder was he talking of her charger or her.

The beauty nodded faintly at his perceptive wisdom and expertly hid a grin behind her neutral features that would have revealed her ever growing fondness for her Rum.

Mistress and slave slowly meandered up the now well trodden path that led to the Dark Castle from the stables. Usually, the gorgeous Dark One would have scolded him, if still in jest, for dragging his feet to his duties, but knowing what would come when the full moon had risen in the folds of the diamonds firmament Belle chose to taper her pace to a leisurely crawl that he diligently matched.

Hands folded behind his back, Rum watched the dust of summer coat over his boots and a few intrepid ants scurry busily through the cracks sprawled along the trail.

Around the path, pink and red roses that bordered the dirt trail had oddly begun to bloom. The blossoms languished about them with every step as if silently begging to be plucked and adorned where they could be displayed in their simple beauty.

At the first sign of their appearance the spinner deduced they must have not blossomed in many a season for when the buds of pea green hue had first begun to rise over the choking weeds that sunk deep into their roots and strangled the stems, both Belle and Brimstone had been surprised to see dots of pink and crimson along the entangled scratching growth.

One that dipped perilously in the pathway caught Rum's eyes right as he'd been about to trample it. Without missing a step he bent to snatch it from the ground and snapped a lower portion of the stem in one smooth motion; his dexterous finger nimbly dodging the prickly thorns.

Drops of morning dew still flecked upon its velvet petals and its fragrance was a delirious mix of loamy earth and rain.

"A token, if you'll have it, mistress." Rum stated suddenly as he proffered the ruby red rose to his owner.

Belle halted her ponderous track to admire the lovely offering of the crimson tinted flower by her timid slave who bowed subserviently to her while holding out the lovely rose.

Her cobalt orbs at once caught that he was nervous, wary even, of the gesture so bold and spontaneous, that her full lips twitched upward at his effort. "Why thank you, Rum. I find it rather appealing." She admitted truthfully as she plucked it from his hand and in turn bobbed a small curtsey to his bow.

His cheeks burned in embarrassment at her thanks, but he sought to hide it as he cleared his throat nervously and scuffed a few pebbles and grit at his feet while they continued to stroll along.

Belle nearly, put her hand under his rough unshaven chin and leveled his immersing chocolate brown eye to her starling azure orbs and hugged him for the thoughtful gesture. Nearly.

Disturbed by the sudden thoughts of doing something so unlike the Dark One, which was she now wholly and forever, the dangerous fiend managed an insipid smile as she nudged her head along the winding path. "Hurry along to the Castle and have breakfast out for me and a steaming pot of tea. I'll be along shortly. I have a busy day."

"As you say, mistress." Rum replied dutifully; glad to be able to escape the silent consideration of her cobalt gaze.

Once he had trudged up the snaking path and was out of sight, Belle leaned against a shading beech tree that bowered some of the path under its leafy canopy.

Holding the token close, a faint smile tugged at her lips as the beauty rolled the stem of the rose in-between her fingers before sniffing its subtle aroma appreciatively and stroking the wondrously soft petals of ruby; pondering what to make of the impromptu gift.

~8~8~

"So the two fools actually killed the goose, thinking it had more gold inside than one egg per day!" Belle gave a brief mirthless chuckle as she quickly jotted something down on a piece of vellum. "And to think they wanted me to give them another!"

Lying upon the main hall table before the sinister beauty sat instruments of magic and destruction of all sorts, ready to be used late in the night for her ritual. Regents bobbed inside wooden bowls and things snapped and chattered angrily in glass jars along side objects that blinked and glared at the powerful woman and her slave.

Oddly enough as well, the rose remained upon the table in a tall lavender hued vase, looking regal and elegant cresting above the scattered magical regents like the one beacon of goodness left amidst the foul objects upon the table.

Now used to witnessing far stranger sights in the Dark Castle, such mystical paraphernalia hardly caused a sliver of intrigue to the former spinner while he bent to his duties.

The servant turned his head slightly to his mistress while he absently worked upon his task of polishing a few of her silver trinkets that were grime ridden and tarnished with age and misuse. A grin of amusement bloomed upon his features as he rolled his shoulders in a shrug. "Are you certain they were peasants, mistress? They sounded more akin to greedy nobles to me."

The former spinner always enjoyed hearing recollections of Belle's adventures and exploits as she tromped waywardly across the realms causing mischief and chaos in her wake while she struck bargains or dealt deals with the conniving and desperate.

"Gold and power can quickly transform people, Rum." Belle retorted absently as she scratched another marking upon slew of papers before her.

While Rum had learned to decipher the writ upon the many tomes in her library, what she wrote was in a different tongue. The language of magic.

"Hand me that dagger you just polished, will you, Rum." The Dark One ordered as she looked over her work to point at the gleaming dagger laying a small ways from her slave.

The blade was small and nondescript insofar as Rum could tell, though when he had first picked it up to give it a good clean it had felt almost writhing in his hand like a deadly serpent even though it remained prone and cold in his hand.

Nodding, the spinner handed the dagger to her and padded back to his task though stifled a shiver as he wiped his hand on his tan tunic as though it had been plunged through foul muck.

Hefting the blade, Belle gazed sternly at her reflection. Her azure eyes flashed in a sharp glint that match the icy steel as a small smirk festered upon her lovely features. As many times as Regina had come sashaying through her palace, her piggish greedy teal eyes studiously scanning for the famed blade that had given Belle power, she had never found it even though it was always hidden in plain sight; veiled as just another trinket collected upon her deal doings.

Chuckling at her cleverness, the sordid Dark One pulled the mystical glass vial, garnered from Merlin's tower thanks to Rum's distraction, in front of her before opening her free palm and using the razor sharp dagger to slice a long horizontal slash through her porcelain flesh.

Only a wince of pain whispered from her lips as her rose tinted essence erupted from her palm and oozed into the magical vial that was meant to house such chaotic and powerful magic's such as her blood.

Perhaps it was her small hiss of pain, or the sudden burst and flares of magic that whisked through the air that made Rum shiver slightly as though hit with a frigid chill, but the servant simply brushed it off while he took up another trinket to polish.

Giving only a small careless glance behind him, the former spinner's eyes widened to see dark ruby blood flooding from her palm and dripping into the glass.

"Belle!" Rum cried in alarm as he bolted to her side.

Before he could round himself to the opposite side of the table, Belle had already milked what she needed of her life's blood to enact the curse. Now all that was required was the ritual to bind all regents to when the moon was fully risen.

He was at her side in an instant, suddenly not caring or perhaps throwing his timid nature to the wind as he grasped her wrist and pulled her bloodied hand to him in a panic. Certainly he had seen blood before; deep puddles of it that could be waded through and glimmered in the rays of day like tepid rain water. Yet the vibrant streak of scarlet ribbon upon her palm made his heart twist as though being wrung out by a pair of calloused hands.

Using the end of his tunic, he dabbed and sopped up the blood trying to halt its gushing flow, momentarily oblivious to her calm and intrigued staring aimed at him.

"Putting a gash in you hand! What in all the realms possessed you to do such a thing!" He demanded, in that moment forgetting his place or even not caring.

An amused and endeared chuckle echoed from the devious beauty's lips whilst she rested her head on her free hand and watched her slave begin to wrap a clean strip about the still dribbling cut and congealing blood that stained upon the fresh scrap of rag.

She should have been irked or even wrathful of speaking so brazenly to her, but his surprising concerns smothered the smoldering feelings of anger at his brash, harsh scolding.

"Funny." Belle snorted once in amusement as a peculiar thought sprang to her mind, causing her to grin widely.

His whisky brown gaze flicked in a scolding manner to her before he tied the make do bandage neatly about her palm. "You think hurting yourself like this is laughable?" He inquired in a snap that held testament to his panic.

"No, I think it funny that this was the first time you've ever spoken my name aloud." Belle clarified as she pulled her palm away and flexed her injured hand experimentally.

A sting of pain surged through the wound, but it paled in the pain to come upon the midnight hour.

Dark red bloomed upon the spinner's cheeks as his actions dawned upon him with a stinging clarity making him want to blanch and blush all at once. What had he been thinking to speak to her in such a scolding manner and grab her wrist without a by-your-leave, or even a consideration!

In less than three minutes alone he'd probably broken a handful of rules that deserved pain. "Forgive my brash ineptitude, mistress. I forgot my place."

The dangerous beauty waved her hand dismissingly at his words as thought the very notion was preposterous. "There is nothing to forgive. Your actions proved you a loyal servant, though a trifle prone to panic." She grinned fondly at him, trying to banish his anxiousness. "Besides, I do not mind being called Belle. It is my name after all. Truth be told, I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever start to use it." She smiled faintly. "Now go about your duties and rest assured I won't bleed to death."

His spindly shoulders slumped in relief as the coil of fear subsided in seeing that she was not angered by his sudden blank mind where all he thought of was her pain and how to aid her.

"Yes, mis- Belle." He began then corrected himself, trying to get used to her name that he suddenly realized he was allowed permission to use.

As the former spinner stood up, it was then the vile beauty understood what single minded fear had caught him enthralled.

The bottom of his coarse tan tunic he had used to dab up her life's blood was stained in dark splotches of the gummy, ironically cold fluid. For the first time in many long years the sight caused Belle a fierce bout of nausea, and a dark pit to grow in her stomach in which her heart plummeted.

She couldn't help but imagine the blood being his own that had erupted from his belly from a sword slice through his gut or streaming from a hard stab in the abdomen.

The same blood of the man who had given her the rose, who had gotten one up on that vile harpy Regina, who she was teaching to read and write. Her Rum.

She had laughed at his panic towards the nasty gash in her palm, now she understood what fear gripped the heart and wrenched it mercilessly at the dire repulsion of the blood smeared across him.

Had he truly felt the same way for her only moments before as the terror she felt now seeing blood drenched upon him?

"Mistress, are you well? You've turned pale as a specter." Rum stated in growing concern.

His brown eyes searched her ashen face in alarm as he neared her again in readiness to aid her in any way possible.

Belle shook her head to clear it of her fear then nodded sagely, trying to get her mind back on track to the tasks at hand. "Fine, I'm fine. You on the other hand go change into another tunic; I won't have you involuntarily fouling or staining up any of my treasures."

"Of course, mistress." He replied in dutiful acquiescence and marched out toward his meager belongings sequestered away in the stables.

As he strode away, the beauty gazed upon the tenderly wrapped bandaged about hand with a small, sad smile and flexed the gashed appendage warily once more.

Even though she could have easily snapped her fingers and knit the flesh together, the dangerous Dark One opted for the mortal hurt of the wound and the touched feeling that soothed inside her with every flinch of pain in the knowledge that he had came so quickly to her aid.

Sighing, in the throes of what old emotions that were beginning to bubble within her graceful form, the vile beauty turned back to her task; trying to concentrate upon the threads of the curse that needed to be spun at mignight, but failing miserably.


	11. Price

_A/N: Much love for reading and reviewing :3_

**~8~8~**

After the entire blood-letting fiasco, which left only the hollowed remnants of gripping panic smoldering about in the main hall, the pair remained eerily silent towards one another as the hours of day trudged slowly to night.

Both seemed as though they were terrified to even utter a word from the threshold of their lips in case something that pressed in their hearts came out rather than logical requests and inquires or their comfortable quipping bantering.

Even so, while cleaning, Rum kept one eye out for his volatile mistress in the event she slashed another wound upon her person. He didn't dare reveal to her how his breath caught tightly in his throat or how wantonly his heart pounded in dread against his chest as he gazed upon her ruby blood oozing down her palm and flecking the accursed blade like crimson dew.

Truth be told, he didn't understand it himself. Months ago he would have wished with all his being she'd have disintegrated into a crinkled pallid husk as she bled like a stuck pig so he could escape her thralldom. Now he was surprised to find the frigid embers of his emotions had warmed to her, even though she was still his captor and slaver.

Yet, the former spinner was determined to attempt and dissuade her from piercing her flesh, especially with that loathsome, befouled daggers steel again, even if she might not look upon his concern with as much amusement as she had done before.

"It's still early summer." Belle stated suddenly as she appeared in the dimly lit kitchens, just before the spinner took his leave to the stables he dubbed his sleeping quarters.

Her arms were burdened with a rough woolen, gray blanket that she awkwardly handed to him, her eyes searching to stare at anything save his incredulous features knit ponderously at the offering. "I brought you a light coverlet. It'll be colder tonight." She explained evenly to control the tremor in his voice.

Rum fought the curious urge to ask why she would give him such an item, when Brimstone's sheer fiery presence of his ember glowing hooves and heart of flame kept the chill that emanated from the stone stables modestly warm.

A seemingly normal smile hinted at his lips as he took the proffered gift and tucked it under his shoulder. "Thank you, m-Belle. That was kind of you." He replied gratefully; his mind still trying to get accustomed to her name.

"I also came down hear to let you know I will soon be working on something in the castle." She stated tonelessly to hardened her resolve and banish the fear that snaked in the pit of her belly. Her voice forcibly became stern as her azure orbs hardened into sharp flints of ice that tore at him in silent warning. "Tonight you are forbidden to enter the Dark Castle. Under no circumstance are you to leave the stable until the gray light of dawn hit's the tree tops."

The spinners face scrunched in concern as he laid the blanket down forgotten and turned back towards her. "Mistress, what…?"

"Do you understand?" She interrupted in a low demanding growl that caused an array of Goosebumps to prickle at Rum's flesh.

Red mist coiled from her fingertips subtly as she forced a slight hint of magical pain upon him to make him mildly wince in discomfort as promise of more if he disobeyed.

"Yes." He nodded fervently to assuage her anger to avoid punishment. Just by daring a glance at her fathomless cerulean eyes, the former spinner concluded she would have no qualms unleashing her torment upon his lanky form if he did not comply too the letter.

Belle's hard eyes scanned over him quickly, trying to perceive any deception, yet this time her cobalt orbs held something Rumpel had never seen before shimmering just beneath the surface of her icy gaze. Fear? Trepidation?

Allowing herself a faint nod of satisfaction, the dangerous beauty's porcelain features softened only a fraction and even that seemed forced, as she shooed him off. "Good. Now get some rest, and remember to use that blanket."

~8~8~

The vile Dark One could feel the knot of anxiousness coil in her gut as she walked back into the main hall where all was set for her dark ritual. The full moon, looking akin to a new silver coin resting upon sable silk amidst a sea of diamonds, barely peaked through the thick indigo shrouds that covered the monolithic stained glass windows as she made one last inspection all was as it should be.

As she slowly placed the regents in order, a quiet plea that Rum had indeed pulled the thin coverlet over himself as he turned in for the night, escaped in an nervous breath that fell tenuously from her full lips.

While seemingly a simply gray blanket, the fibers were endowed with protective magic's to ward off any unpleasant sensations of the powerful curse weaving the beauty was nigh to invoke.

At that moment, even, the foul press of dark magic caroused about her like large furry spiders skittering across her skin and trying to burrow underneath her flesh to her magic beneath, as if drawn to the sacrilege she was about to conjure into the oblivious realms.

Gulping down a huge amount of magic drenched air, the beauty balled her hands into twin tight fists and steadied her quivering nerves with a forcible will only a powerful dark sorceress could possess.

The magic galloping through her crimson blood hummed to life as she beckoned her ancient power to her fingertips. Pulses of darkness crackled against her porcelain flesh and leapt and streaked like lightening along her skin as she plunged into the tainted magic's of old that swirled about her.

At once the corrupted power lashed at her body with its intangible talons to claw at her exposed skin. It's voided foulness seemed akin to wolfs fangs ripping and shredding at her bared flesh in cruel glee as it attempted to peel her skin from her body.

That, Belle knew as she barely even flinched, was the tame side of the black magic teasing her. No, the real pain would not be physical, although with what was left of her dark heart she wished it was. But a price for such magic about to be woven was heavy indeed.

But to feel she skin flayed from her bones would have been more welcome compared to what torment was nigh to be thrashed upon her!

Belle's mind calmly combed over the magic she sought to pull forth as her spell clever fingers hastily dumped and stirred her regents in a mortar and pestle to grind in fine granules that would serve her dark deeds that night.

Gritting her teeth determinedly to ward off the ever ensorcelled agony that dug into her body, the vile beauty energetically pounded upon the mortar to grind the concoction to a flour like consistency.

The unpleasant pungent aroma's released from the hard sought items wafted into Belle's nostrils like wet, rotting refuse mingled with old blood, that, when she gave it a precarious sniff, its pungent aroma coated her tongue and throat with every whiff of the noxious regents.

Nose burning, the vile beuaty turned her head away as she forced herself not to gag while she finished the strange mixture and spoke the spell to bring its magical properties out even more so.

A fierce jolt of pain ran through her suddenly, making the sordid beauty lurch forward and rattle the table, but she kept her balance and the pestle steady while she mentally prepared herself for the next step.

The dark powers in the pestle that she had unleashed coaxed her with poisoned honeyed words to finish the mixture, and Belle readily complied.

Taking the glass vial she had dumped her life's blood into, the beauty held it up to her face scanning it intently with her tear brimmed indigo eyes. Moonlight transformed the glossy crimson essence to reflect a silvery sheen upon it prisms as Belle only hesitated a moment then hastily dumped the contents of the pestle into the mystical imbued phial.

For one singular moment the force of such powers entwining into one, rocked Belle to her very core in a lance of pain that shot across every nerve of her body. Her head flew back as she barked a chilling shriek in pain, her hands curled so tightly about the bottle would have cracked into a myriad of shards had it been some ordinary glass.

For a moment the pain became so tremendous she bit her tongue until the iron tang of blood erupted into her mouth. Her cobalt orbs screwed shut likes vices as she fought back the searing press of tears behind the wrenching pain in her eyes. Every tendon of her body was aflame in an inferno of torment blazed mercilessly upon her form.

Suddenly, the pain halted so rapidly the vile beauty actually stumbled to a knee, her breath sputtering indomitably from her burning lungs as she gasped in deep laboring intakes of air.

After a moment of quivering while the last wave of pain subsided, Belle opened her eyes to see truthfully the agony had only just begun.

Golden slants of light filtered through the opened drapes allowing particles of dust to sway in the rays of day. The entire castle was arrayed in lavish splendor befitting a nobles hunting lodge.

Pelts of exotic beasts and stuffed ferocious animals which were gaudily positioned into deadly stances of rearing up and roaring with claws brandished murderously donned each wall in a garish decoration of furs and leathers that had never ceased to turn her stomach at the proud display of such mindless butchering and barbarism.

"Belle, where have you been?" A voice inquired in a blustered timbre that made the beauty go rigid at the tone she hadn't heard in nary a life time.

"No." Belle whispered hoarsely, her throat tightening and eyes burning with the sting of tears. Why did the magic call for this price that severed through the very tendons of her spirit at the memories that haunted her tainted mind.

She was Belle once more, plain, simple, foolish Belle. A woman who was alive, several lifetimes ago.

"_We could relive your suffering."_ The inward voice of the curse magic she tried to command and bend to her will hissed coaxingly in a vile sweet timbre.

The disturbing beauty suppressed a shiver as she allowed the magic to feed upon her pain as the dark thread of magic exacted its toll upon her broken mind.

"_We would not need to open these sore wounds again. We would take another payment for our magic's." _It reasoned, sounding almost understanding.

"_What do you ask?" _She questioned desperately; anything to relive the pain of remembrance.

"_Your timid slaves life, his warm blood, his very soul. Give him to us so we may tear his heart asunder, to feed upon his pain and you will have no torment." _The foul malignance drawled, its darkness crawling in close like a thick curtain of fog rolling in from the sea encroaching upon her sensibilities to suppress them.

"_No." _Belle retorted simply in a growl, leaving her response at that. Her heart clamped at the thought of Rum having to go through such torment, he might not even live through such an experience.

Even though the magic had no cognitive form or face, the beauty could have sworn that it smirked in cruel amusement at her paltry defiance. _"Pity. Enjoy your stroll down memory lane."_

That very nearly made her reconsider, but the thought of Rum unjustly put through his own personal hell and having his mind broken into emendable shards as hers was, banished the thought away as quickly as it had come.

"Of all days to have your nose tucked into a book, Belle!" Maurice scolded, though his voice was gentle and a beaming smile marbled upon his features, yanking Belle from her thoughts of taking an easy way out of her torment.

His thick, tradesmen and king calloused hands fell upon her shoulder softly to give her a comforting pat, which filled the beauty with deceptive warmth that felt all to real.

How she desired to fling her arms around his bulk in a tight hug, to whisper that she was sorry for everything that happened, yet she could only watch the images replay from ages past.

"Just for today; the day are to be wed could you possibly forgo these fanciful tales and legends to focus upon your matrimony?" Her father asked as he held up the dog-eared book that had been by her side.

"Of course, papa." Belle replied in a meek nod of her head as she took the tome and put the large golden book down upon the table to be forgotten until later.

Of course that was the old Belle who spoke those complacent, strong words. She was the Dark One now, but still the fiend couldn't stop from watching the haunted memories from the eyes of the woman she had once been.

Maurice chuckled slightly but the gesture brought about a fit of racking coughs that shook his corpulent form with every hacking explosion from his mouth. He swiped his lips after it had passed and grinned weakly at his daughter, though his dark eyes shimmered in fatherly pride and tears unshed.

Caring for his people might have shattered his health but he would stand tall to walk his daughter, the heroine of their people, down the isle to her awaiting betrothed.

"Now hurry along to your ladies-in-waiting. Gaston and the townsfolk won't wait forever!" He jested good naturedly as he strode back out of Gaston's keep and unto the estate grounds where the ceremony was to take place.

How many things had the enthralled Belle wanted to speak at the moment? To tell her dear, gone Papa she was a stupid child, a fool, a dreamer, that she loved him, but she could only watch him walk away and hoped that wherever he was in the realm beyond he had forgiven her.

As suddenly as the memories of old had materialized it shifted to a now dire scene out on the grounds of Gaston's old stronghold. It was now a different time, months later when the beauty of the marriage had been tarnished with sordid revelations and the thundering cries of war and betrayal.

Bodies lay strewn before her in a bloody path that led from the surrounding village's right upon the buildings surrounding the castle; her castle now.

Bloated flies swarmed the fetid corpses of man, woman, and child as vultures lazily circled overhead in massive engorged flocks that looked akin to ominous storm clouds.

A dark miasma of death enshrouded the beauty as she simply laughed at the carnage she had created with her own two gore caked hands and a blood slick dagger held loosely in her grip.

Her dress, once of daffodil yellow, was steeped in the ruby of blood and dirt that dyed it a sickly brown tint. The countless bodies, laying in every conceivable direction, mirrored the scattered fragments of her broken mind that lay amidst the mountainous heaps of torn bodies.

For long moments all she did was laugh like a small child dancing in a field of wildflowers instead of a land sprawled with carnage. She skipped along amongst the dead, jabbering incoherently and splashing in the reeking mires of blood, and happily trilling along in small snatches of song that flew hither and thither about her ravaged mind.

It was the moment her eyes had truly seen. The moment the dagger revealed what power and cunning really was. The moment she had garnered her power as the Dark One. With every soul sent from this world into the realms of eternal dusk and stillness, was another jolt of power, another spell learned, another lifetime gained.

The day she had thrown everything she ever knew or cared for to the wind and sought only gain in power was the day she had been transformed into the Dark One.

A sob erupted from Belle's throat as her eyes still held the faraway misty look of the memories forcefully blaring in front of her. Despite all her atrocities it hadn't been enough it hadn't been sufficient to bring her father back. It hadn't been powerful enough to undo all the damage she had done!

"I'm sorry." She tried to scream out to the rotting mountains of flesh and decay that remained branded into her memory. "I'm sorry!"

Even while her mind was in another place, the beauty's hands had not been idle. One piece of blank parchment sat before her along with a vulture quill pen resting partially askance to the side.

Immediately, the beauty, not even realizing what she was doing, dipped the quill into the concoction of blood and regents and began to write frantically upon the blank vellum.

The words glimmered a deep ruby tint that, once scrawled before her, flared a bright purple then dried instantly upon the parchment.

With each word written, Belle held back a racking sob as she fought to continue, and fought to keep the memories from completely swallowing her sense and heart as she finished dictating the last blooded words.

Her torn mind strained with every bit of thought she had as she blotted the last line with a period and very nearly dropped to her knees in exhaustion of a beaten body and a ravaged mind.

The magic's that had asked so much of her for a curse of such magnitude, growled their foul approval as they accepted to be bound upon the parchment and dwell inside the foulness to be unleashed upon the realms.

As the bright luminance from the words begin to dim and sink into the yellowed vellum, the pain had still not departed from Belle's mind, for the price of such dark magic still had a steep debt to be paid as it tore the tender layer of thoughts best left buried away and ravaged her again.

The thin vulture quill fell limply from her grip as she reeled backwards while another memory coalesced in her mind. One that she never, ever desired to recall again.

She stumbled back as though the phantom figure in front of her was real and staggering murderously towards her. Her hands vainly swiped at nothing but air, as she screamed out warnings to the darkness.

Her feet became entangled upon the edge of the rug in the main hall as she sought to put distance between herself and the invisible specter of memory, and Belle felt herself tumbling backwards into a voided abyss when arms caught her to steady her body.

Rum knew from the moment the illuminate orb of night had risen to its apex in the darkened firmament that something was wrong.

Even Brimstone for all his nap loving, was wide awake and stamping about nervously like a horse unused to some foreign scent of a predator. It's ears twitched sporadically and bulked shifted nervously as small whinny's whimpered from the beast.

The former spinner had a notion all was not right as well, for it was not sensing anything that held testament that something was amiss, but the sharp stabs of pain thrusting into his heart.

He had reasoned Belle had warned him of her activities, yet a desire to go to her burned hot in his chest. But she had forbidden it; he scolded himself harshly as he tried to hunker down more comfortably upon his pallet of straw. If he even dared go against something she expressly forbade he was certain the agony she would lash across him would be worse than any other punishment before.

Another streak of pain clawed at his heart just as the thought bloomed into his mind. Whatever magic's she was conjuring was taking it's toll out upon him as well. Then what it must be doing to her, he thought suddenly; the sudden consideration making his heart race.

Panic clenched his aching heart as a grimace etched across his scruffy features. He knew she was in torment, far more so. He couldn't explain how he knew, but he was as certain of it as anything in his life.

Brimstone suddenly bucked and reared up on his hide legs as another bout of magic washed over the estate like a billowing wind of a gale.

Before he even knew what he was doing, Rum sprang up and pulled his tunic over his body in one smooth motion as she padded towards the stable exit.

His hand fell upon the cold latch and just for a moment his cowardice gripped him. If he took one step out of the stables she would punish him severely, or possibly even slay him for his direct disobedience.

Images of her ruby tinted magic swirling around him then prying away his sanity and flesh flashed before him, nearly making the timid spinner turn around and cower in his stall once more.

His mind attempted to reason it was all nonsense of his overworked, tired body, but just one sideways glance at the pawing, cinder like eyes wide, Brimstone told him it was not just his imagination.

Taking a deep breath of the dirt and straw mingled air, Rum summoned what little courage he had, forcing the images of torture out of his mind and pushed the stable doors wide.

Everything appeared normal out in the tranquil midnight. No hell hounds roamed the grounds or devils cavorting in some black ritual with his mistress, yet there was an anxiousness spread upon the land akin to a thick fog. No nightingale sang its lament and no crickets chirped their love songs amidst the tall grass. All had fallen in a heavy blanket of quiet as though the world and even the trees themselves where holding their breath.

His quickened steps ferried him to the towering thick oaken doors of the Dark Castle faster than they ever had before as the feeling of dread crept upon him with its icy skeleton claws.

Having already broken her strict command of not taking one step out of the stables, the spinner wasted no time in heaving open the iron banded doors and slipping inside.

The entire castle was pitch black, just as it had been that fateful stormy night he had wandered into the citadel as a cripple bed beggar, save this time know streaks of lightening helped illuminate his way.

Even though the blackness felt akin to a heavy shroud seeking to engulf him, Rum had no trouble finding his way through the mires of blackness that seemed even deeper than they should have been.

As he padded quietly to the main hall, his heart thudded in a dull pound with every step. Magic swarmed about him akin to thick stagnant swamp muck that clung to his form and sought to drag him down.

With every new wave of the tainted power he could sense claws trying to drag him low and pounce upon him with whatever sordid magic Belle had conjured this night.

He trudged through the dark forces for what seemed like an agonizing eternity caught in the muddled mires of misery, until he finally came to the double doors leading into the main hall.

For a moment all he could do was stare at the gilded panels upon the craved wood, his tactile mind racing on what to expect. Some bloody sacrifice, a foul ritual that would sear through his brain and shatter it?

A scream. Her scream suddenly pierced the air like a blaring war horn, jerking the timid Rum from his fearful ponderings.

Pushing the doors open, the spinner raced in just in time to see his mistress make one last attempted at punching at the magical energized air then stumble back.

In that instant, the fouled magic hampering his very steps recoiled away from him as though burned by some unknown fire about his person that scorched its dark talons.

Racing to her, he grabbed her in his arms just before she fell back. A shocked gasp of pain bubbled from his lips as he held her. Her body was rife with torment that he could feel shoot under her skin.

"Belle!" Rum cried as he sank to his knees with his burden. All the fibers of his beings screamed for him to let go, and be rid of the fierce flaring torment that snaked inside her form, but he would not have let her go for all the realms.

The residual pain emanating off of her stung like vipers sinking the poisoned fangs into his flesh, but he held her tighter as he stared into her eyes.

Milky, bluish mist veiled her startling cobalt orbs as though wispy tendrils of fog were coated in front of them. She was in pain, she was cognizant, but she wasn't truly there, Rum knew.

Her mind was off drowning in some other plane, some nightmare filled realm that caused her to lash out and thrash at an invisible specter before her.

"Nothing is here that can hurt you!" He assured her desperately, his voice caught heavy with emotion at her agony that she couldn't escape.

Darkness that swirled about the room encroached upon the pair, but didn't dare fall upon the spinner as though there were some fiery shield covering him from its greedy maw.

There was no one else in the room, but Rum got a niggling feeling something was looking at him through obsidian hate filled eyes and growling in disapproval of his intrusion and its devious entertainment at the cost of Belle torture.

A foul globule of darkness crept upon the vile beauty making her shriek louder in her far away torment, which tore at the spinner in more agony than the throes of pain in his heart. Whatever was trying to get at her was defiantly winning, painfully so.

Growling in determination, Rum held her close to his body, inadvertently pulling her into the strange shield that protected him from the malignance that pressed about the main hall.

Instantly her eyes began to loose the fog as though it were steam being whisked away. And for the first time since he had arrived, Belle's eyes turned to him, her azure orbs wallowing in the glimmering crystal of tears.

How was he there? Why wasn't he writhing in torment or dead as the dark magic's ripped him limb from limb and devoured his soul. Maybe it wanted her to see before it tore at his flesh and drank his blood.

"Leave…" She whispered hoarsely as her hands tightly gripped at his russet wool tunic. "Flee before it hurts you."

He could not endure such agony as she, and her black heart could not bear what would happen if he fell into the cruel claws of the evil that sought to take him away from her.

A faint smile bloomed briefly upon his face, but drifted away as quickly as smoke on the wind. "I already disobeyed your command. I'll not leave you here to this…" He paused suddenly while his head tilted upwards to scan the wafting darkness. "This evil." He murmured in a disgusted whisper that sounded akin to a curse.

Of all days to be so stubborn, Belle thought with what small sliver of sanity remained in her morose of despondency and torment. She would have laughed had he not so utterly cast himself into the foul agony that stole any inkling of mirth away.

"It's not safe." She croaked in protest, her voice raw and hoarse from her incoherent screaming.

Palm upon his rapidly drumming heart, she weakly attempted to thrust him back as through her Rum might decide upon wisdom and race back to the safety of the stables, but the gesture only strengthened his resolve to be by her side and hug her closer.

Even as the words left her mouth she could feel the darkness clawing back to gain a foot hold in her mind to make her finish paying the price. Her vision blurred once more into the foggy mists of torment as the dark powers flung her back into insanity so that she could barely make out his features. It was as if he was behind filthy smeared glass, or a puff of thick gray smoke that muted his roaring words and marred his scruffy face from view.

"_He will die." _The dark magic cackled cruelly through her mugged mind as she fought to maintain her focus on the scraggly features of her Rum. _"We will claim him and devour his soul you find oh so endearing!"_

Tendrils of darkness suddenly reared up behind Rum taking the form of yellowing skeleton's hands with rotting chucks of flesh still speckled upon them that flexed eagerly to claims its long sought prize.

Before she could blurt out a warning, the talons of nightmare gripped the former spinner by the shoulders in an iron vice. The claws curled cruelly into the fibers of his tunic and easily pierced his soft flesh, bringing forth spurts of his vibrant crimson blood that erupted under the talons and morbidly splashed across her face.

Belle clung to him desperately, even though she could feel the icy skeleton hands dragging him into the darkness where she couldn't follow. His blood chilling, harrowing shrieks that grew fainter with each passing heart beat reverberated around her, as though he were being yanked down a seething pit to the realm of Hades.

Of course she knew it was an illusion of abject horror to appease the darkness and he was still clutching her protectively in his wide caring arms, but it felt so real that she could sense the warmth of his blood still smeared and trailing down her features and mingling with her salty tears that marred her face and gummed her russet tresses to her pain laced features.

Gripping his tunic in a vice, Belle cried piteously into his chest, clinging to the last bit of sanity that remained in the gale of madness that stormed over her.

"You can't die, Rum, you simply can't!" She managed to choke out through racking sobs. Letting what was left of her brave resolve slip away, the vulnerable beauty gave in to the taunting and vilely deceiving darkness's seemingly assured last words, as her tears soaked his brown tunic. "Please don't die, please. You're my only friend."


	12. Explanation

_A/N: I know I say it all the time, but thanks for reading and reviewing!_

**~8~8~**

Rumpelstiltskin awoke feeling unnatural fatigue gripping his sinewy form. It wasn't akin to a weakness where Belle had ordered him to toil until he fell in a heap of exhaustion. On the contrary she was never too demanding with his tasks even on her most furious days, the former spinner perceptively realized, but tucked the thought away for later pondering.

No, this was tender soreness where his muscles tensed in stiffness, and with every heaving breath his lungs rattled as though he had wandered about a smoke filled room. A pounding akin to a hundred dwarves viscously hammering away at his skull, dully thudded right behind his whisky brown orbs, making him loathe the thought of even daring to peek his eyes open.

Where was he? What had happened?

All he could recall was the vainglorious Brimstone nervously pawing upon the hard earth, and waves of unpleasant magic crashing mercilessly against his form.

Breaking her requisition and creeping into the Dark Castle, vaguely sprang to mind where the only brief flashes of memory he could bring to the surface of his thoughts was the sight of his conniving mistress striking wide blows at the magic infused atmosphere and screaming like a banshee newly arisen from its eternal repose.

Slivers of other memories arose from the blank fog of his pain addled brain, telling of catching her and feeling the warmth of her tears that soaked through his rough woven tunic as she clung to him for dear life.

He remembered holding her close to his wildly drumming heart, his face buried in her thick amber maple locks and whispering words of comfort that fell upon deaf ears.

As the horror laden night slowly marched onward, he had kept her tight and secure in his encompassing arms until her mortal shrieks of pain had only fallen to tearful, piteous, whimpering like a child caught in the terror ridden throes of a nightmare in which she could do nothing to jar herself awake from.

Some time in the waning night, as the sun banished the blackness away from its rightful place in the court of heaven, and vibrant display of brilliant reds and soft coral pinks streaked the sky amidst the faded gray, Rumpel had drifted off to sleep with his devious slaver still wrapped protectively in his arms.

Whatever seemed to steal her mind and claw mercilessly at the membranes of her senses had departed, leaving her off in tumultuous, exhausted slumber.

Since both of them had been coaxed into the realms of thankfully dreamless unconsciousness in the early rise of day, the former spinner hadn't a clue just how long he had been asleep or more importantly, how long his strange and volatile mistress had been awake.

Squinting his eyes open just a minute crack, Rum clenched his jaw and hissed through his grit teeth to fight off the stabs of pain the light brought shooting through his aching head. The thick curtains had been drawn as usual to let the golden rays of day beam throughout the hall in some macabre cheerfulness that was always present whenever the sun dared shine upon the coarse gray stone of the ancient citadel.

Staggering half blind to his feet, the servant stumbled along clumsily; his eyes closed tightly to hamper the slants of golden light that desired to gouge through his brain until he could feel his way to the perpetual dank and graciously dim corridors that constantly wafted the harrowing drafty chills which never ceased to remind Rumpel of faint wails of the cursed dead.

As he lurched into the darkened hall, the former spinner leaned against a column to gather his dwindled strength and let his pupils adjust to the merciful blackness. Once the black and blue dots halted intermediately spotting his vision, a soft sigh quietly fell past his lips as he thought over what to do.

Surely his dark mistress would be furious at his direct disobedience to her commands. Perhaps even now she was in her potion room concocting some sort of extremely vile and potent toxin to make him writhe in misery while she bombarded him with magical arches of agony at all once in some sinister ensorcelled pain.

A part of him momentarily darkly cursed himself for his stupidity in throwing his caution to the wind that dreaded night and foolishly giving no heed to what pain that was foretold.

But then, it suddenly dawned upon him as quickly as the fear for his health jolted his heart into a booming pace, that even though he was certain she would make him pay dearly for blatantly ignoring her demand, he felt no regret in what he had done. He wasn't proud at his rebellion that might very well cost him his health or life, but a part of him felt no anger for rushing to her aid.

Still, that knowledge did not take his fear away.

Minutes ticked by in the discomfiture of the chilled darkness, as his mind frantically combed over what route to take. Of course he could always sneak out to the stables and attempt to avoid his ubiquitous mistress for as long as humanly possible.

But in the end, either by magic or by time, they would have to meet and when they did… Rumpel suppressed a shiver that shook his entire form as he dabbed a trickle of cold sweat that brooked down his temple with the cuff of his tunic at the mere thought.

For a moment he thought to simply get it over with and grovel and plead before her for mercy, but coward that he was, he found himself padding to the kitchens to sneak out the servant's door to the stables.

"I'm sorry mistress I don't know what got into my stupid head. Forgive me, milady, I was a fool." He murmured quietly to under his breath as his mind raced to find the most appeasing words to spare him a trifle of her vast wrath.

At a loss for what to say, Rum ran a hand through his dirty brown locks and shook his head and grimaced darkly as though the words left a foul taste on his palate. "No, no, that's far to honeyed. It might even make her more upset!" He supposed dourly.

So caught up in his paltry excuses, he never noticed the warm aroma of honey and tea mingled in a delightful fragrance that drifted upon the drafts. He barely noticed that the kitchen door was ajar at that the fire had been stoked.

Yet as he padded thoughtfully into the chamber, oblivious that something was out of the ordinary, he immediately noticed the fierce hiss of the griddle slab and the chestnut haired woman standing in front of it, casually flipping pancakes.

The former spinner inwardly cursed his foul luck as he halted like a frightened doe cornered by a ravenous wolf. Of all the places for her to inhabit at that moment! She should have been in the library or her potion chamber at least, brooding or gnashing her teeth in fury; not making breakfast!

She turned her head to him, as though just noticing her slave and gave a faint disarming grin that fell quicker than it sprang upon her lips. Her porcelain skin was pallid as though she had dusted power upon it, and her eyes shimmered with a dark melancholy that flecked her azure orbs.

"Breakfast is nearly done." The vile beauty announced gently in a soft lugubrious tone that belayed her own weariness and despair. "Have a seat." She nudged her head slightly to the two chairs surrounding the table as she turned back to her task of pancake flipping.

Something that felt akin to a two ton boulder lodged in Rum's throat as he gulped in affright at her deceivingly soft tone that sounded all to kind to be true. "P-p-please, mistress, B-Brimstone has y-yet to be fed." He dared point out in a sly, desperate protest to let him slink away in one piece and hopefully not in torment.

It was a dire risk, he knew, one that could have her fly into her inferno of rage at any second, but at that moment, anything seemed better than the tense tranquility between them.

"It's been done." Belle assured him as she dived up the hot cakes on two plates and brought them to the table. "We need to talk."

Rum felt like ice ran through his viens as he dully sank into the chair she proffered to. His muscles were taut, just waiting for the pain he had no doubt was about to be pummeled towards him.

"I'm not angry with you, Rum. You've no need to fear any punishment." The fiend revealed calmly as she busied herself by pouring a cup of warm tea.

A huge breath of relief flagrantly bellowed from his mouth; his tenseness moderately vanquished. Belle never lied of that he knew for certain.

Hunger bolted into him like a streak of lightening after the confession, making his belly growl in expectant want of a meal. With a ghost of a smile he dug into the meal with a relish, to find to his surprise it tasted better than any conjured food she usually summoned up with her powers.

Swallowing a forkful of syrup drenched pancakes, the former spinner flicked his warm maple eyes at her before scooping up another bite. "I didn't know you could cook, mistress." He remarked, trying to banish the awkward silence that only held the sounds of forks and cups clinking.

A reminiscent smile bloomed upon her lips as she took a precarious sip of the steaming brew. "I used to enjoy it, once upon a time. It helped me think. Strange, I haven't done it in literal ages."

"Oh." He replied simply; focusing intently on the meal for he did not know exactly what to say to her.

Silence rained once more between the pair as they stared down at their plates on in their cups, not daring to make eye contact with the other.

"You deserve and explanation." Belle finally said suddenly. She placed her tea cup down and clasped her hands in front of her; eyes mournful and brimming with thought.

Shaking his head down the spinner heaved his shoulders in a shrug. "I am your slave. You owe me no nothing, especially your reasoning."

A mirthless scoff spat past her lips as she rolled her cerulean eyes. "You should realize by now you are more to me than that. And even if you were not, I feel as though your mind should at least mildly comprehend a few things."

Her fingers drummed slowly upon the table in a steady rhythm that fell in melody with her painful thoughts. She looked at the crumbs on her plate as though they were transformed into more than mere scraps into something long forgotten that had briefly sprang to mind.

"As you know, last night I wove powerful magic's. Any user of magic, good or ill will tell you all magic comes with a debt to be paid for such power. And being what kind of magic's I sought to bend to my ends, well-" She paused there suddenly as though momentarily reliving the torment. Pain flashed in her eyes as her jaw clenched determinedly. Once she had gathered herself again with a determined will, she smiled insipidly. "Well let us say, the magic's I wield, requires torment for their powers. My price for such great magic was to…relive memories before I became the Dark One."

Food forgotten, the slave leaned forward in his chair, his whisky brown orbs dancing in intrigue.

"As with you, my tale begins when the vile ogres marched upon my father's kingdom; seeking lavish spoils from our riches and plenty and craving a kingdom of humans to grind under their iron heels. For years our people fought valiantly, but we were a peace loving kingdom and traders by deed and nature.

For years the war dragged on, and I could see it was a loosing battle and that we would be crushed if action was not soon taken." A quiet sigh erupted from her lips as she gave a soft humorless chuckle. "So, I did what any young woman desperate to save her land would do; I sought out a neighboring kingdom with a good military and begged them for aid.

Many were petrified of the towering ogres and their seemingly endless ranks of layered mail and huge broad swords wielded by those hulking monstrosities, and in all told, I only found one with a king willing to aid."

Her eyes took on a faraway look that was nearly similar to the night before, save with far less pain and increasing smolder anger, shimmering in her orbs. "His name was Gaston. He was a young monarch with an age old kingdom his ancestors had spent generation building. He had a well trained army always at the ready and he loved nothing more than to brawl and take foes spoils.

The only that might have surpassed that was his avid affinity for hunting, and the thrill he got preying upon defenseless creatures that were merely struggling to survive.

Seeing a golden opportunity to save our land, I arranged a meeting to plead and strike a bargain for his warriors to drive the mongrel ogres back to their marshes.

From the first moment we met, just by the covetous glint in his iron gray eyes, I knew what he wanted in return for such needed aid - me. He saw me as a new thing to hunt and claim as his trophy and parade about his castle like one of his kills.

At first my stomach roiled, but then the pieces were all put into order. My father was constantly trying to send bachelors my way in hopes I'd marry and unite us with another kingdom or have a male heir to the throne, I would finally be wed, my Papa's kingdom would be liberated, and the marriage would soon unite two kingdoms in riches and power. It seemed like a win win situation for everyone."

"Except you." Rumpel observed quietly; drawing an odd look from his mistress at his words.

Shaking her wandering thoughts away, the vile beauty sipped her tea sparingly once more before continuing. "When all was said and done, Gaston's forces were indeed the last push we needed to turn what looked like a devastating defeat into a startling victory that actually had the ogres of the run at the savagery of Gaston's men.

After the battle I became Gaston's betrothed. And we were soon married and I came to live here as his queen."

Proffering her hand about the palace as if it had escaped her slave's notices she frowned in disgust before her lips curled into a furious sneer. "What you know as the Dark Castle was many centuries ago known branded the Huntsmen's Hall. The place was constantly rife with the noxious odors of tanners making hides and leathers, and great beasts, stuffed and strung up, used to fill every crevice of this place.

The library itself used to be Gaston's trophy room."

At that, a small upturn of her lips flourished upon her features like she had gotten revenge somehow on the ancient Gaston.

"But to continue, life with Gaston was to put it mildly…horrid. He despised books, loved too much ale, constantly rambled about on lavish hunting expeditions to the far reaches of the realms, and dwindled his once grand kingdom near rack and ruin."

Snorting derisively, a bit of anger flared in her eyes as she knocked back a loose tendril of her russet curls in annoyance. "Try as I might to overtly manage and dam his massive spending and waste, I was a 'woman' and therefore all I could possibly do was titter around and look pretty like any other trophy.

I swear if I spent every second of the day running into a corner, people would assume it was perfectly natural for a dimwit woman of noble birth!

But as the years progressed, the coin became sparser and spacer until even Gaston began to realized he needed to do something to bring more gold into the coffers.

My father's kingdom was still flourishing and more prosperous than it had ever been without the ogres invading his land and slaughtering his people, so the brute Gaston devised a plan.

He went to the king of the ogres with gifts of his last gold and pretended to be their friend by giving them information on how to invade my father's kingdom again. If all went accordingly, the scheme was meant to put my father's people into a panic, meaning Papa would call upon Gaston and his army and pay handsomely for his aid.

But the ogres had other plans. Seeing he meant to have them slaughtered and not join them in destroying my father's land, not only did they move before Gaston could put his pieces in order, but after they mercilessly demolished my father's kingdom, and the plot was brought to light, they turned to us.

My father and other refugees managed to escape the carnage, but we could barely feed our people, much less those coming for sanctuary.

The ogres had many more of their evil kin this time as well when they turned their war banners towards us. Much more, and they had fire in their belly's for Gaston's, the traitors, blood.

Seeing that all would be lost unless dire action was taken I frantically searched my small stash of books to find something…anything that might save us all.

I nearly gave up hope when one last book caught my attention that I didn't remember subtly buying from the traders that had once flocked to the Huntsmen's Hall. It was a book that told of great power that could do nearly anything when given a suitable price. Back then I didn't know that the dark magic had sought little, desperate me out to bring it to full, horrid, life once more.

So, desperate as I was, one night a slipped from the castle and through the land to find the source of this power. Suffice to say, I indeed did find it, or it found me rather, and was given a dagger that would serve as my conduit of power.

On the morrow I returned, and Gaston was furious I had seemingly deserted. I tried to tell him; I attempted to show him the blade and reason that I had done so for the greater good, but in his fear and rage my words fell upon deaf ears.

In his fury he lurched to grab me and perhaps even kill me, and that's when I found I had power to fight back."

Belle smiled almost warmly, but in a way that sent a series of frigid shivers involuntarily down the spinner's spine at the corrupted grin.

"I managed to slit his throat with the blade and instantly, I felt more power surge through me. A thrill, such as I had never felt, coursed through me in a rush of insane hunger that I never even knew I had. To know such power would be mine had me quivering in excitement.

Drunk off the sensation, the darkness coerced me to take another life to make my power even stronger. With each life stolen, more unfathomable power would be bestowed upon me. So I slew Gaston's second in command as well."

Her eye became dull, and she visibly flinched as she numbly uttered the words that fell from her lips as a confession of her ancient atrocities. "I slew another, and another, and another, my eyes going blind with red and gore and the sheer magnitude of power bombarding me. Blood washed me in torrents as I laughed and smiled and cackled and sang with their cries of terror and aplomb in mad chorus.

But what were a few lives, I thought, to give me power and keep our people safe."

"And using that power from those you slew, you managed to defeat the ogres." Rumpel concluded warily, his mind reeling in disbelief with her tale.

"No." Belle shook her head mournfully. "I defeated no one. When I journeyed into the land to seek the magic, the darkness bound to the dagger promised no ogre would ravage our homes or kill a single one of our people and I would be endowed with more power than I had ever dreamed. I knew it sounded to good to be true, but fool that I am, I clung to every single word in zealous belief.

It kept it's promise alright, for after I had come into full power there was not a man, woman or child left alive in Gaston's kingdom for our foe to slaughter. The foe coudln't kill what was already dead. And the ogres, so shocked by the sea of gore, by the acrid stench of a bodies rotting and bones bleaching in the sun, and at the mindless butchery to such a vast scale, that none, not even their bravest warriors, dared step a single foot to trespass over to my territory."

Barking a suddenly crazed and yet saddened laugh, which made Rum visibly jump, Belle pointed to the outside in the direction of the haunted, sprawling forest. "Do you know why it's named the accursed forest? Because there used to be towns and villages strewn about there. But centuries and the sands of time have covered it up and turned the hearths into dead ashes and the hovels into tangled undergrowth and haunted darkened glades.

For every tree that grows upon that blood-soaked land is a soul I devoured. I am a mass murderer, Rumpelstiltskin. A true beast. Every day you look into the eyes of a monster; not a person, but a savage animal!"

Caught in the throes of the agony she had once sworn never to speak of again, the beauty clenched her fists tightly; using all her will power to hold back a wellspring of scalding tears. "When you burst into the main hall do you know what I was screaming at so terribly?"

Before he could respond, she laughed again though her throat was thick with emotion and unshed tears. "Myself, Rum, my own bloody self standing over my fathers corpse!"

For a long while both remained quiet, letting the words steep inside them as tea leaves did hot water.

The fiend could see her Rum's mind working in a dizzying inferno of thoughts. Not only was he a slave to the crazed Dark One, he was also captive to a butcher, and blood soaked monster, with a sordid soul blacker than a moonless night and stained with the deaths of thousands of innocence.

"The monster inside of me is dark and seething. It is a tainted beast, and you have every right, and true instincts to loathe and be disgusted by me. I accept your hatred and fear, I understand your terror." Belle admitted lowly, unable to stand the awed silence.

Long minutes ticked by, until the beauty, to craven to turn her gaze to look upon his no doubt horrified and disgusted features, sighed and pushed back her chair to rise.

Wordlessly she gathered their plates and cups and carried them over to the wooden tub to be scrubbed later. She expected nothing from him, but screams of terror, and she counted herself lucky that that had not occurred yet.

But at last he knew the truth, and at least she had finally told someone what had been so long aching in her heart. The pain would never be lifted from her heart, nor the chains of guilt fettering her soul, but it felt liberating in a way to tell some one at long last her crimes that deserved death a thousand times over.

She was about to turn around and silently stalk out the kitchen, to leave him to his duties and no doubt frantic plots to find a way to freedom away from his crazed mistress, when the beauty felt a hand tenderly land on her shoulder and squeeze in a small effort of comfort that it could.

"Power to free yourself and be a hero; to protect those you care for and love. I can't imagine the temptation the magic dangled in front of you." Rum stated in a whisper as he moved to face her fully.

His features were warm and understanding, not stained with harrowing judgment, filling Belle with a light that had been bereft inside her empty, corrupted heart for a very long time. "I can't fathom what acts you've done, and I would be lying through my teeth if I stood here and admitted your tale does not fill me with terror. But I do not hate you. I do not know what to truly make of you or what to think of you, in all honesty. "

"Rum…" The beauty choked his title hoarsely, her chest tight with what might have been the only true happiness she had had in centuries.

There was no judgment, no scorn, no revulsion dancing in his soulful maple orbs that always held his truth. No, her Rum spoke to her now not as a slave, attempting to find favor, but outcast to outcast who knew what it was like to be haunted by ghastly specters in his past.

Some one who had every reason to hate her and yet did not? The astounding thought was nearly unfathomable to the beauty; nearly making her reel in shock.

Silently he knocked a few wayward, straggly dark amber curls from her face tenderly, as though just seeing her clearly for the first time. He offered a small, comforting smile that drew her in to him like a moth to a dancing flame.

Involuntarily, she leaned up and quite unexpectedly and of his own volition, the former spinner tilted forward and met his mouth to hers in a gentle kiss. And for once, it did not make his stomach roil and churn with disgust.


	13. Changes

_A/N: Thanks for the taking the time to read and the stellar reviews!_

**~8~8~**

The devious Dark One lounged languorously upon her favored plush perch amidst the forest of books strewn about her grand library. Locks of her dark amber hair tumbled down her slender shoulders in an array of loose curls that curved and brushed against her skin in an alluring manner. Her sleeveless peach hued dress took on a soft tinted quality in the rays of day that showered over her body with its warmth.

She held a curiously demented black tome to her face that looked as though it had been plucked from a self in the hottest pit of Tartarus. Her bright azure orbs, furiously combed each scrawled words of magic; absorbing every dictation of the pen greedily as a parched man did water.

She truly did look beautiful as her namesake claimed her to be, Rum thought with a soft, heartfelt, sigh whilst he crept into the library with his burden of mop and bucket. Where once he had only seen a disturbingly, cruel, and malignant beauty, he knew there was a benign, tender, warm person amidst the shrouds of turmoil surrounding the Dark One he called his mistress.

Something had defiantly changed between them. Both, terrifyingly, knew as much in their own ways. Such was all too to clear to the pair, who vainly attempted to privately reason such a conundrum away with logic and lies.

A certain strange enigma had bloomed twixt mistress and slave, in which there was only a minutest spec of incredulity that the new found feelings would simply vanish with the passage of time.

On the contrary, Belle even secretly ascertained that whatever had grown between them, might even blossom to greater prestige given more golden opportunities to flourish.

Though they both very well knew of the mystery they skirted about, at the very fringes of such an anomaly, neither held enough bravery to bring it to light, lest things became more awkward and confusing than they already were. But what they could indeed admit was that things had changed from what they once were.

"Business as usual today, Rum?" Belle questioned in a light hearted jest as she closed the black leather tome in her grip. A ghost of a grin tugged nearly unnoticed upon her features as her eyes scanned over her servant.

Regina's previous statement the first time she had caught a glance at the spindly Rumpelstiltskin had been wrong, a few decent meals, some fresh clothes, and washed up and he didn't look bad at all. "My you certainly recover well after flirting with torment and demise." The gorgeous beauty commented.

The former spinner's scruffy features tinted in a faded crimson flush as he precariously dropped a wooden bucket topped with mountainous pearly suds upon the marble floor. Bending to his task, Rum shrugged laconically as he scrubbed the extraordinary rose hued marble. "It war far less painful for me to endure than for you, mistress." A wry grin creased his lips as small chuckle rumbled good naturedly from his throat. "Besides, I'm like a newly sprouted oak sapling; lanky and thin, but I am not so easily broken."

The beauty barked a bellowing laugh, unable to contain her mirth at his joking. He could be quite humorous at times when he wasn't completely cowering or scurrying about in fear of his volatile mistress. Her bright laughter suddenly tapered away upon the drafty wind, as her sapphire eyes shimmered in a glassy luster extremely akin to tender fondness.

There was no use denying it, she had grown endeared to her slave, even though when the feeling had begun to surge through her, the sinister beauty had done all in her power to augment the truth.

"That's something I've been meaning to ask you about." Belle stated; her brow knit in thin lines ponderously.

Flourishing her spell clever fingers through the air, the beauty banished the dripping mop and bucket away in wreath of dark crimson magic's that enveloped the cleaning tools, leaving the spinner grasping air and standing moronically in the middle of the vast chamber.

An involuntary giggle slipped from the Dark One's lips, as she watched him, his arms hanging akimbo and looking at her with a faint hint of annoyance, but also amusement flecking his dark chestnut orbs.

"Come now, Rum, the floor isn't going anywhere, and neither are you. Sit with me for a while." She temptingly patted the purple cushion she had been previously lounging on under the monolithic glass aperture.

The spinner nodded dutifully, as he strode gracefully towers her. "As you say, mistress." He replied with a crooked grin that made her heart race in just the knowledge he reserved it for her when she was indeed in one of her more pleasant moods.

Plopping down next to his strange slaver, Rum closed his eyes and sighed at the pleasant feel of the warm sun rays cascading over him like an intangible blanket woven of its golden beams. It was a comfortable little berth, they rested upon; normally only large enough for one, making them have to sidle close together.

The lavishly soft, cushioned window seat was a favorite place for Belle to relax and read by the suns rays. Some nights she read late into the hours of darkness, and would fall asleep there in her comfortable little nook with a tome still hanging limply in her grip.

She always seemed so peaceful when she dwelled in her grandiose library. Here in her most resplendent chamber was a revealing glimpse of her lost humanity and mortality with nary a sign of the malignance festering inside her, save for the most dangerous of occasions.

While Rum was never brave enough to dare wake her from a peaceful repose in her grand library, he always made sure she was comfortable, and brilliantly kept a blanket tucked away in a granny of one of the book shelves to drape over her if an occasion arose.

Belle never thanked him for such, or even acknowledged his actions, but he sensed a surprise and gratefulness at his caring which, even she herself admitted, she did not deserve by any stretch of the imagination.

Clutching her hands together in her lap, the devious Dark One didn't look to her slave's general direction, but gazed at the towering shelves of books intently, as if knowing them all by heart. "So tell me truly, how did you get through the magic with out being maimed or slaughtered?" Belle inquired.

Surly there had to have been some trick he had conjured, to stave off the razor sharp talons of the darkness incarnate.

"I no not, milady." Rum answered warily as though attempting to gauge her displeasure at his words. He would speak the truth, but it may not have been something she desired to hear. "It was painful, yes, but it felt as though the tendrils of darkness were shriveling or furling back before they could harm me in any substantially cruel way."

A thoughtful frown dipped upon Belle's lovely features in a considering look the former spinner knew all to well. "You are so certain? No hex was cast upon you as an infant, no curse spat from the bloodied lips of a dying man, no _fae _blessings by those multi-colored excuse for flies known as fairies?"

"None that I know of, mistress." Rum replied timidly, seeing the carnelian tinge of anger flare in her eyes, and the disapproving clench of her delicate jaw. Tilting his head dead down, he watched his boots scuff at a speck of dust on the rosy pink marble swirls. "I am nothing special. No magic, no spells, no curses. "

"Well something happened. A fluke, perhaps but of that I am highly dubious." She sighed and hefted the black tome she had been perusing. "And no magical study has an answer for why the darkness didn't devour you whole and crawl into your mind to taint you."

At that the russet haired beauty leaned her head upon her slaves shoulder and shrugged helplessly. "I suppose I shall have to give it more thought when I leave today. And what's more…" The beauty paused suddenly, her tone instantly mischievous.

Her spell clever finger wrapped about a tendril of his dirty brown hair, as she smile knowingly at her slave. "You may not be magically unique but you are most certainly special to me."

A fiery crimson flushed through Rum's face at the complement that he knew she meant more for truth that for jest.

~8~8~

The sky was a dusty scarlet intermingled with soft lavender that alit the underbellies of the curdled ivory clouds in the last glorious display of dusk strewn about the sky until darkness took reign.

Already the brilliant North Star was faintly visible off into the dimming distance, ready to greet the night in all its diamonded splendor and silken darkness.

A slight smile bloomed upon Balefire's stoic, bearded features as he watched the fiercely hued blood red sun sink into the horizon and the twilight liberally staining the bright blue heavens. The wind tousled his mop of unruly, dirty brown tresses, which resembled his sires light brown locks. His armor was dinged, but in fastidious repair with nary a link out of place upon his mail, and his sword and shield gleamed in the last radiant lights of day holding testament to his vigorous care for them.

For long, tortuous months, he had been on the road; every day slow and plodding upon the winding stretches and rife with confusion in winding pathways that led everywhere and nowhere all at once in some insane oxymoronic trail. But he knew his search to find his father was getting warmer, indeed he could feel the scathing heat, roiling hotter in his chest with every step south towards a place people whispered of only in the dead of night or in ancient crypts as the accursed forest where ghosts flitted about the somber trees to lament their fates.

Soon the son would confront the father with the questions that had been seared through his brain ever since he saw the man he once called Papa under the glistering gray-gold scales and behind bottomless voided pits of onyx eyes.

How had he become the infamous Dark One?

What happened to him after Bae had left to pursue a better life rather than care for a cowardly cripple?

In what way did he slay the pervious Dark One and gain such magic's?

Yet the most important question of them all, that branded inside his brain, was one he would keep locked deep into his raging embittered soul; how exactly to slay such a beast?

Surely with such near limitless power as the Dark One, his craven of a father must have mended up his withered limb, and built a palace strewn with the finest of luxuries any noble would be jealous of.

With such wealth and power that could be his all at the end of a blood slicked blade, the young knight yearned for the day to be free of Uther's kingdom and seek a glorious land of his own he could rule and govern in his wisdom.

"I'm coming, Papa." Bae spat malevolently in a ruthless, black grin that was deadlier than the knife-like rocks jutting below him.

His sword calloused hand curled over the hilt of his blade tightly as he continued to look out ponderously into the hazy distance until night had fully taken over the heavens.

~8~8~

"So, what has my Rum been up to while his mistress has been waltzing about the realms this night?" Belle inquired curiously as she wandered into the stables.

A humorous smile barely pecked at his lips as the spinner continued to get ready for grateful oblivion of slumber. "Nothing overtly taxing; finishing up a few chores, a bit of reading, and sneaking that great fiery bulk you term a horse, a few sugar cubes." Rum admitted as he pulled off his dark red tunic revealing a myriad of fleshy scars and healed wounds from ages past when he had been nothing more than a peasant and a spearman.

Brimstone harrumphed tersely and seemed to give his head a shake as though trying to feign innocence of convincing the human from giving him the sweet blocky treats he adored so that his mistress might on the off chance believe him and give him more.

The beauty flashed her nightmarish steed an all suffering smile and a slight amused shake of her own, as she turned back to stare at Rum in the dim stable lights and the illuminate shafts of moonlight peering through the yawned opened oaken doors.

His skin was toughed by unrelenting rays of the sun, sweat, and hardship that beat mercilessly upon his flesh, giving him a weathered look that was oddly appealing to the beauty.

"I answered a summons tonight from a prince who was tired of royal life." She announced quite suddenly.

Her fingers tracing along the grit and striations of the cold gray stone stables while her mind recalled the meeting those hours ago. "He wants a life of freedom away from responsibility and monarchial affairs and duties. If I granted his wish never to be remembered by his kingdom and given a life of freedom, with a few supplies and a servant to be by his side to do all the drudge work in his rambling, then in exchange he would bequeath upon me a magic mirror that would let me see anyone I wanted at any time. Of course I immediately thought of you as the servant since I cannot simply make people of servitude pop up out of the ground like cabbages."

At that, her words so cavalierly spoken, the timid slave couldn't help but gape at her meaning. He blinked owlishly at her, as though not comprehending what she had said so carelessly. "Mistress…Y-you mean to trade me?"

For a moment there was a sorrowful, melancholic betrayal so deep flashing in his maple brown orbs it pierced Belle dead center in her heart harder than any weapon, nearly making her twitch with pain. "No, no, of course not." Belle assured him quickly; trying to sound her most careless and as if it didn't truly matter. "You were the first thing that came to my mind, because you are bright, loyal, and brave."

A blush fired through his cheeks and felt like it burned the tips of his ears as Rum, smiled bashfully at the floor. Did she truly think all those things about him?

"Besides, I simply must keep you; you are better with Brimstone than I am. I made one little comment about him eating too many apples and he didn't look at me for a week." She added to lift the awkwardness that was quickly blanketing them like fresh fallen snow that would hold them aloof.

At that, the fiery stallion huffed irately, still remembering the comment, and lifted his head haughtily in offence before turning around to sulk in his stall in his attempts to guilt his devious rider into more sugar cubes.

The mad beauty ignored the plot as she padded closer to the spinner, her eyes soft in apology for making him think she meant to sell him. No, never would she do such a horrid thing. He was hers till the end of time itself and beyond; her eternal companion.

The only sound that could be heard was the slight crunch of straw beneath her boots as she neared him, her head cocked curiously to the left so that her dark amber curls tumbled down her shoulder. "But if given a choice would you choose to leave this life for one over flowing with adventure and danger and glory knowing you may very well earn your freedom?" Her body stopped inches from his own.

"I was never one much for honor and glory and danger, mistress." Rum revealed as he folded his tunic and put it with his other sparse possessions. "I would be more a detriment than a help. Besides, if I am to be owned my place is here with the woman who captured me then healed my malady, took me from the life of a wretched beggar, taught me how to read and write, and gave me a purpose of sorts." He retorted with a grin.

"Truly, you would stay with me?" Belle asked in unabashed shock she didn't even attempt to hide behind her carefully constructed veils.

Rum nodded gently, his eyes speaking for him in a silent promise dancing in his warm russet orbs. "You, mistress. Always you."

Lifting her chin in his hands tenderly, the former spinner slowly, wondrously, met her lush pink lips in a soft kiss that held faint hints of urgency in something more. Before she could pull away or halt herself, for she had made a secret commitment to herself, not to use him in such a manner again, Belle too felt the blazing fire ignite in her heart and stir for him in a way that never had roared to life before.

His arms encircled her in his safe sanity, protecting the darkness from coalescing in her mind and the insanity from gaining hold that night. He was her guardian, her protector, a shield to block the evil that swarmed inside her.

The night waxed with passion and love and tender touches that erupted in too so much more in the small stable stall that served as his sleeping quarters.

Brimstone, however, snorted billows of black vapors in his disapproval, and huffed as any agitated horse would by two beings the next stall over who were disturbing his nap time.

Fortunately, his disgusted holier-than-thou glares, 'well I never' rolls of his flaming orange-red cinder eyes, and irritated stamping were tactfully ignored as mistress and slave held tightly to the other in the throes of passion.

Smears of pallid iron gray light were nearly hinting the tree tops before Belle rambled out from the stone built stables. The amusing irony that she was the one leaving his bedroom was not lost upon Belle as she trekked her was up the snaking path in the dead of night to head towards the Dark Castle.

Even though Rum had offered her the softest heap of straw he termed a bed, and to rest comfortably in his arms for warmth, she desperately needed to be out in the nippy night atmosphere to let the cold steal upon her skin and clear her head with its chilled breath.

Something was wrong. She constantly felt the warning rippling through her magic that breathed in seething hisses in her mind like a scathing wind ever since she had been with him that night.

All was not right in her enshrouded darkness. A dreaded chink in her vast, corrupted powers had been found and used to slip through the tiny vulnerability that encased her mortality.

Her eyes scanned the blackness as she pondered what exactly could be the matter and what so bad had happened that the magic inside her was coiling in frothing anger and- in an instant, her thoughts were yanked away as the malicious powers inside roared the answer that craftily evaded her so fastidiously.

A gasp loudly erupted from her full lips and drifted upon the night winds as what was so wrong suddenly dawned upon her like a bolt of lightening and struck; jarring her hearts thumping beat into a frozen, horror laden hiatus.

By all accounts it shouldn't have happened. It _wasn't _supposed to happen, for she had her conjured foul magic's in place, which should have readily been more than enough, and she drank elixirs all the same as well to prevent such from ever happening with her slave.

But in her heart of hearts she knew for certain it was true. _It _was there; taken root inside her amidst the despoiled darkness, like a shaft of light breaking through a darkened glade.

"Oh no." Belle murmured in awed shock.

Her knees shook and she staggered with each slow step until she lurched to lean upon a nearby towering oak for support. Her azure eyes gazed about frantically in panic as though a solution or a denial could be found slithering upon the dewed blades of grass and thorny roses at her feet.

Fear such as she had never known before gripped her in its icy talons to throttle her calm composure and rend it asunder into tattered shreds taken aloft and flittered away by the chilled breeze.

A hot solitary tear brooked down her porcelain cheek as one trembling hand landed center upon her belly in tenuous terror. She _knew_ it was inside her now.

**~8~8~**

_A/N: Yes, yes I am so going there! Can you guess what's happened? :3_


	14. Revelations

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing. I hope you all enjoyed the surprise :3_

**~8~8~**

The glorious light of morn that heralded the first day of autumn was certainly a magnificent sight to behold. Crisp air, pleasantly mingled with the last warm hints of summer bidding sweet adieu from its reign, wafted through the trees getting ready for their long repose of slumber; turning their garbs of green into vibrant yellows and crimson before shedding their persons altogether.

Dew that hung like faceted diamonds upon every dark green blade, and upon the lavish palaces of the cunning spiders brilliantly spun webs glittered in the pure rays of fall sun that culminated the land surrounding the Dark Castle in the gorgeous bucolic day break.

For the Dark One, however, every inch of beauty she would have been secretly awed by went unnoticed like a dreary gray afternoon that seemed to plod along forever.

Her library was thrown asunder in a realm of chaos, looking as if a pack of rabid wolves had been set upon the towering shelves or a gang of enraged bandits searching for valuable spoils had found a way inside to wreck havoc upon the tomes.

Books lay in pathetic, miserable condition helter-skelter upon the rose hued marble in a way that made the chamber appear no one had been in that part of the castle for decades.

Pages were crinkled and ripped nearly from their bindings, rigid spines lay crooked and bent, tomes laid ajar on the ground, while some looked like they had been hurled across the lavish chamber in a blinding, frustrated fury of the libraries volatile mistress.

Though the once expertly maintained literature lay haphazardly, they all appeared to lead in a guilt ridden and winding trail to Belle's brown calf strapped sandals.

A grimace was marbled in deep gouging lines across her lovely features that belayed her panic and fear clearer than anything else would have. Her mind flew in a dizzying whirlwind as she viciously snatched the leather and stiff backed tomes from their ancient perches to flip through them in a terrifying speed that damaged the pages form their former pristine condition.

Some answer had to be found in her vast trove of words. Surely some gnarled sage or brilliantly wise wizard or even a previous Dark One held a written, logical response to her panicked plight that plagued her so.

Even at the thought, her hand flew to her belly as her heart picked up its already rapid tempo that drummed in a beat of terror and confusion and vulnerability she hadn't known in centuries.

Yes, something…_anything_, had to be there to give her guidance, to assure her ever failing reason and courage not to simply drop to her knees and burst into a gushing flood of tears.

A growl of frustrated rage seethed out through clenched teeth as she angrily slammed another book that provided no light to shed upon her predicament to the marble floor. Sniffing once, to hold back the scathingly hot mixture of tears and fright, the beauty leaned her sweated dotted forehead upon the cold shelf and pinched her eyes tightly shut in order to gather her control once more.

She could handle it, she assured herself resolutely, though to say she truly believed such would have been the biggest falsehood she had ever spat. All would work itself out, for she was the Dark One, the most powerful woman in all the realms.

A calloused hand suddenly landed tenderly upon her right shoulder, breaking any amount of calm she had managed to drum up with her lying thoughts.

Her tongue was ready with a less than pleasant spell and dark curse as she turned around quickly in the heat of her rage that billowed wantonly through her.

Seeing the furious fire of burning blue in her orbs, Rum leapt back instinctively from his volatile mistress as though she were a poisonous serpent he had uncovered.

Concern swam in his dark brown eyes that were soft towards her but also wary of her painful wrath. He knew something was amiss the moment he stepped foot into the library with their morning tea and saw the myriad of her precious books ruined and discarded upon the floor like refuse.

Belle never allowed her books to fall into such a condition! She treated every spec of literature as priceless treasure; not even her collection of trinkets was worth her coveted hoard of tomes she kept in the utmost esteem and care.

"B-Belle, is something amiss?" Rum stammered in anxious worry for his mistress.

An insane, yet enraged and scared smile mingled all at once upon her pallid lips as she laughed like a mad woman. "Is the impossible wrong? Should it be labeled as a good or ill in nature?" Shaking her head, the vile fiend's face, once alit in crazed fire, darkened gloomily. "It's none of your concern. Just serve my tea, slave." She demanded caustically.

Rum inwardly winced at the title she hadn't used in many a day as he scuffled and picked his way about the bedraggled books back to the steaming tea set to turn to his duties.

"Forgive me, mistress, I didn't mean to offend." Rum apologized timidly; his body visibly ready for any tinge of pain she might lash upon him in her anger.

The shaken beauty stared at him with azure orbs harder than any blades steel as she watched him lovingly set things just to her liking. Everything he did, he had learned from listening to her demands and orders and memorizing them to heart so she could be pleased with him.

"You once said you were always here to listen. Did you mean it?" Belle inquired suddenly. Her voice was low and flitted with desperate hope that the spinner barely caught.

Nodding as he put his mistress' tea together just the way she liked it with three sugars and a splash of cream, Rum nodded dutifully, but didn't turn away from his task he now knew by heart. "Of course, milady. I'm always ready to listen."

The fiendish beauty placed a hand gently upon her belly that swirled in turmoil at what she was about to utter. A deep breath filled her lungs as she forced her nerves to steady. He needed to know. He deserved to know. "I'm carrying your child."

A loud, sharp crack was the only thing that split the dead silence in the vast library as the cup slipped numbly from the former spinner's hands and on to the pink marble; shattering into a thousand indiscernible shards of white and blue mingled with the rich brown of the hot tea.

"You heard correctly, Rumpelstiltskin, your spawn is in my belly." Belle spat plainly to mask the fear she felt surging inside her with the open admittance of being with child.

How would her slave react was the major question that made Belle so nervous she felt nauseated simply supposing his response.

In all her long years she had certainly seen and dealt with enough men who didn't want their little bundles they had inadvertently sired and simply thought it more than prudent to barter them off for a new milking cow or diamonds. And certainly she had struck bargains with desperate mothers who, in fear of their husbands not taking the news of their conception well, gave their children up in hopes to find a better life.

The spinner stared almost dazedly at the sliver gilt tea tray and the winding steam seeping up from the ceramic spout of the warm kettle for long minutes until his brain connected back with his tongue. "C-child…" He stuttered as though not comprehending the word. Turning to her fully, his face was a mask of awe and disbelief as prodded a calloused finger into his chest small chest. "My child?"

"Who else?" Belle nearly shrieked but kept her tone in a snapping snarl as she sneered at him like he was a daft imbecile. "I've nary spent my nights under the sheets rutting with anyone else, but you!"

"How?" He questioned dazedly, but not in the anger that Belle had seen so many other men ask.

No, it was more just a shocked inquiry for nothing else to say at the moment as his mind processed the startling thoughts and reeled like a drunkard with the news.

Bell snorted angrily as she balled her hands into determined fists to keep from trembling. "That's what I mean to find out. I had magic's to halt such, teas and herbs as well to deny the effect of conception." She shrugged helplessly. "Though your bastard some how miraculously managed to weed its way inside anyhow."

"Please don't call it that." Rum protested suddenly, astounding Belle with the tenderness flitting in his timbre. "It doesn't deserve such a rank as that. It's wonderful. Our-"

"_Yours_." The Dark One clarified callously in a tone like a dousing splash of icy cold water over a warm fire. Her eyes ser aflame again in her rage as she lashed out at him in her turbulent emotions. "This thing inside of me is your fault! Whatever you did to weaken my barriers, however you managed to beat back the darkness protecting my womb is all on your head, so it is yours Rumpelstiltskin not mine. I'll have no claim to it! The blasted brat is yours!"

"Belle." Rumpel began softly in gentle understanding, as though he wiped away the veil that covered her anger to see the frightened, trembling woman beneath who knew not what to do about the tiny life inside her.

He could see behind the mask of fury to the fear wallowing deplorably in her dully thudding heart, and she knew it as well as he.

The vile beauty shook her head fiercely, now holding back the scalding hot tears for all she was worth. "No. No you don't get to say my name like that; like you actually comprehend this, like you truly care." She breathed hoarsely.

Every instinct inside her body wanted to drift into his caring arms and sob upon his shoulder, until her emotions cleared away and she could think properly and discuss things with him.

Instead, she huddled inside and reverted to the only thing she had ever known under the thick smog ridden shrouds of cruel dark magic that coddled her all the while whispering fears and deceits. "You don't care. How you can you." She leered in a foul grimace that cut him deeply. "No, I'm going away to clear my head and sort my thoughts through on what to do with this…inconvenience." She coldly proffered a hand to her smooth belly.

The former spinner visibly blanched in a dusky pale at her hard, cruel words. Padding towards her gently, he tried to reason with his insane owner. "Mistress, please-"

"You don't have a say!" She snapped venomously, dangerously close to forgoing magic and physically striking him with her bare, quaking fists to banish the fear and dread that she wallowed in. "You forget your place, slave. You are a piece of property with no rights or say in any matters."

Rum swallowed back down what he was about to exclaim, fearful it might drive her over some horrid edge of insanity. His dark whiskey brown hued orbs relayed a hurt and a worry for her, which nearly made her apologize for the outburst and bare the long sealed gates of her heart open to him.

She glared at him intently with cruel and hard eyes akin to hard forged steel, making sure he dared not speak another word in the matter.

After a moment of tenuous silence the beauty flourished her hands through the air and disappeared in a billowing mist of ruby tinted dark magic to be alone with her thoughts, and leaving a shaken Rum to pick up the books and shattered cup, and sort through his own thoughts that blurred indiscriminately in his utter surprise at her revelation.

~8~8~

"Pregnant." Bell murmured hollowly as she looked down at the silver and onyx rune dagger she gently toyed with in her delicate grip.

The beauty sat in the dimness of her terrifying tower like a scared mouse too abhorred and frightened to venture out in trepidation of a lurking cat. It was a safe place to be alone to comb over her kaleidoscope of ponderings and supposing that plagued her so.

"Pregnant." She echoed for the seventh time with no trace of the astonishment even slightly dimmed from her awed timbre.

She could still barely believe it herself. There was a child just beginning to bloom inside of her.

For the years she had been wed to Gaston, he had always desired a son to teach to hunt and fight and be proud of, but the beauty had never been able to bare him those strapping boys he always wanted.

Truth be told, she had thought herself cursed and barren with a dry womb those long centuries ago. And certainly more than a few women had looked upon her as some sort of failure for not delivering their monarch a suitable heir even though they themselves secretly flaunted Gaston's children he had subtly sired all about his kingdom.

Yet now, her slave had bred her with ease and his little babe was growing inside of her.

Just exactly _how _was the ultimate question in the confusing mystery. One that she meant to find out whatever the cost.

Gripping the timeless dagger by it's dark brown and rough leather corded hilt, the beauty held the polished, gleaming silver blade to her face grimly. A deep frown dipped upon her lovely features, skewing it in oblique lines as her eyes held the same icy glint, but paler like blue smoke.

"I'm not going to make a deal with you." Belle deadpanned evenly as she spoke almost regally at the weapon.

It seemed as though she was talking to the blade before her, but in reality she spoke to the dire, wayward reflection staring back at her from the steel that accumulated the dark powers of the dagger. The dark magic that was incased inside of her from the weapon, as it were.

"_You should no by now; all magic's have to come with a price." _The reflection of her inner dark magic spat in a twisted hiss.

The fiendish beauty held back a shiver at the writhing words that squirmed inside of her and wrapped around her mind like slimy, greedy tentacles. She always detested talking to the magic that resided in the blade. "The price is keeping you in the world." She retorted cleverly. "How I am with Rumpelstiltskin's child is a mystery to us both, and don't deny it because if you knew you'd have never allowed it to happen. I need to know why it's happened so that I may keep our magic's safe and strong. Or would you rather be lost to the world for the next thousand years once more?" She argued with a sarcastic scoff.

At that, her tainted repulsive reflection darkened of its own accord, its own sickly pale eyes of indigo flashed in cheated anger, but also terse agreement. _"Very well. A bit of magic to help us both."_

A moment passed before the image began to fade and swirl away like breath disappearing from the daggers cold steel to be replaced with her own normal reflection staring back sorrowfully at her.

Sighing in relief that her words had been enough to persuade the darkness that fed her powers to except the knowledge as its price, the beauty quickly closed her eyes to unlock the new magic's she had momentarily been given to discover her one question. She knew instinctively it would not be a strait answer, or a riddle at the very least, but at it would still be something, rather than fumbling blindly through the dark with only theories and fears.

As she opened her eyes once more, she found herself not in her vile tower, but in a forest that seemed dimmed and droopy and dark like the tree's themselves were in melancholy lament over some travesty.

To her left a troupe of dwarves, seven all told, were garbed in their best wear, which truly wasn't saying much, and sobbing unashamedly over an ivory and glass coffin with a dark haired, pallid as a blanket of fresh fallen snow, woman laying serenely inside as though she were sleeping and not merely dead and rotting.

Instantly the Dark One knew, she wasn't truly dead, only caught in the throes of a sordid curse by the witch Regina. The boisterous harpy had traded a few valuable trinkets to buy the potion from the fiendish beauty and slather it upon an apple for the lovely woman, who must have been the infamous Snow White, to take a bite and be caught amidst the vileness of the dark magic.

"And how is this supposed to help me figure out what's wrong?" Belle asked herself curiously as she stroked her chin ponderously.

She knew the dwarves couldn't see her, not could they hear her, yet their heads all shot up frantically at the sound of pounding horse hooves thundering through the mournful glades.

Prince James, riding an unblemished steed of alabaster white came bounding through the forest in all his princely regalia, only to rear his stallion in horror to witness his love in the sarcophagus of glass.

Belle watched as he dazedly jumped down from his horse, spoke a few words to the gruffest, burliest dwarf, she had ever seen, who had tears sopped through his coarse black beard, and then staggered over to the coffin.

For a moment nothing happened, save tears rolling from the prince's sorrow ridden face, and then he leaned down and kissed her tenderly upon her cold lips.

At that, even Belle was surprised what had happened next. The young lady's eyes fluttered open, and she began to move as a smile drew upon her lips.

Even though she was only a spectator, the beauty could feel the dark magic's drifting away as smoke upon the wind, and disintegrating into nothingness. Her magic's, the most potent poisons, ever conjured had been nullified like an simple apothecary's elixir!

Something the prince had done had broken through the curse. And then she heard the words that made it all to clear, uttered simultaneously from the awakened princess and her prince. "I love you."

Love? Could that truly be what had been able to break through the magic?

The scene began to fade away, as Belle became lost in deep, troubled thoughts. The next thing she knew she was back in the dim tower, peering absently out of the grimy window into the world of night.

Had love truly played a part to play in breaking through all the darkness and getting her pregnant? She knew she felt different from what she had previously felt with her slave, that was undeniable, but had she actually fallen in love with him? And what's more, had he truly fallen in love with one such as she?

It of course was a ridiculous notion was even too outlandish to actually seriously consider! She punished him, bombarded him with her volatile mood swings, and had made him a slave! And he was a craven coward who feared her every move most of the time! But still…

A cry of rage suddenly burst from Belle's mouth, for the first time admitting she was at a loss for what to do. It was all confusing and troubled, and frightening with no one to ask for guidance, and no one who she could speak to save the man who had gotten her in such a condition!

Cursing darkly, the beauty suddenly summoned her magic's to her to take her down to her certainly burdened with worry slave who had no doubt spent the day in as much thought as she.

For the first time since he had arrived, Rum's duties in the Dark Castle had been cast away and forgotten in his mind without one consideration for a punishment. Belle was pregnant and he was the sire!

A part of him inwardly roared in panic that he should be appalled by the fact, yet more of him simply wanted to scoop her up in his arms and twirl her around the room in glee, though he wasn't exactly sure why.

The tingle of dark magic slithered past his skin, making the spinner turn upon his heel, knowing his mistress had arrived in the library once more. She had been gone all day, leaving the former cripple with a heavy, anxious heart that became more and more load some as the hours trudged onward.

Mistress and slave stared at one another for a moment, before Rum swallowed hard and took a intrepid step forward to aid his paltry courage. "Well?"

Belle glared at him through chips of hard blue eyes, her voice tight and controlled. "I am not in a habit of rushing headlong into things I'm uncertain of. This has put me into a rather difficult predicament that shows no true way to be solved easily." She paused there, gathering up her resolve and emotion all the while pushing the extremely displeased darkness away from her thoughts. "The only true recourse of action is to decide something about it, after your child is born. Then I will have a better picture of what must be done."

A huge sigh of relief bellowed from the spinner's lips as the tenuous worry coiled inside drifted away. He had no words to say, seeing that she didn't mean to do anything until his babe was born. Perhaps then, in some way he could convince her that it was not only his child, as she was so adamantly claiming it was.

Peering curiously at her slave, the sordid beauty attempted to read his emotions that most certainly had to have held disgust, anger, revulsion that some half breed dark spawn was festering inside her. Yet all she saw was a shimmering fatherly pride in his chestnut orbs, and concern for her that confused the beauty more than the question of how the conception had happened in the first place.

He padded closer in soft tenuous steps until she could feel his breath coming out in unsteady exhales that held testament to his excitement.

His hand slowly crept to her belly in solemn reverence, and even though the darkness spat at her to knock his hand away and send him to the stables, she paid no heed.


	15. Caring

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing you wonderful people!_

**~8~8~**

Surprisingly, Rumpelstiltskin, as it turned out to the now expecting beauty, was a rather dutiful attendant once it had been discovered she was with his child. When it came to her needs concerning the babe growing in her belly, or one of the multitude of unpleasant side effects of the unexpected pregnancy, she happily uncovered there was no better caretaker than the former cripple.

If she awoke from tumultuous repose of slumber in the tormenting throes of a nauseous bout of morning sickness, he was always prepared with plain, dry toast and water, and a subserviently bowed head as though accepting the curses she spat at him in her dry heaving, queasy mood.

The first morning she had awoken with the foul illness, writhing and bubbling like noxious brew stewing in a witch's cauldron, the beauty had seriously pondered transforming her concerned slave into a plump slug or lancing his body with arches horrid punishment to garner revenge upon her abject misery that plagued her so.

Instead, she had been genuinely touched by his timid advances of caring concern whilst she sat curled into a tight ball, trying to keep her stomach setteled, and the sincere pain he felt for her; wallowing amidst the tender warmth of his shimmering chocolate brown orbs.

Tea was yet another thing there was never lack of to tend to her ever tormenting conception pangs. The sordid agony she often time fell prone too, felt akin to thick, fetid sludge skulking through her veins and turning her stomach inside out in roiling tremors and crashes which only the warm brew could balm.

Vile herbs, which the devious Dark One usually harvested for toxic potions and elixirs to barter to the desperate and the scheming, now went to the nobler task of making soothing remedies to alleviate the galling pain for her miserable form.

All the while, Rum was indomitably on hand for every little detail and eager to obey her every word she ever deemed to utter. No morning was ever with out a winding string of inquires concerning her health or subtly scanning her normally ruddy parlor to observe anything amiss when he thought she didn't notice.

"I certainly hope you know with out a shadow of a doubt I loathe you." Belle spat in acidic simplicity to her slave through a mouthful of dry, insipid toast she chomped into vengefully.

Tiny specks of golden brown crumbs flew from her warm, pink mouth as her startling cobalt orbs glared icy chips of hatred at him in her absolute ill torment. She thoroughly despised the slimy feelings of her raw, churning stomach threatening to heave up its sparse contents, and the light headed dizzy spell swimming about her skull, while lances of pin-point pressure pounding dully at her temples all in some malignant symphony of misery.

Belle's respect for mothers, all over the realms who dealt with such pangs in harsher conditions and no one to care for them, begrudgingly grew ten fold in regards to their motherly fortitude. How so many accomplished such a feat, and on multiple occasions was a fathomless mystery to her!

The timid spinner nodded dutifully, yet absently at her words as he silently measured out precise pinches of the dry, ruby ground mixture of aromatic herbs from a dark leather pouch she had given him to fuse into her tea to ease her day break pains.

Of course she didn't mean it, he knew assuredly in his heart. Just one simple, perceiving glance cast her way and he could see behind the false veil of blazing anger and sheer hate was misery and ubiquitous fear.

Stirring the strange dried concoction into the steaming brew, Rum flashed his ill mistress a small crooked grin that alleviated a bit of her blistering irritation. "How could I forget? You tell me everyday, mistress." He quipped to lighten the mood and to avoid any punishment that could be accumulating in his direction if her ire rose to an inferno.

An apology at her snapping nearly flew from Belle's shrewdly pursed lips at her malice infused behavior, but she bit it back with an inward scolding curse at herself for even considering uttering a word of sorry to him.

Taking the warm azure and ivory ceramic cup he proffered to her, the sordid beauty sipped the hot brew gingerly in a secret delight that shivered pleasantly up her spine at its savory deliciousness. Even though she would rather die that admit her thought aloud, Rum was an excellent tea maker; using the miraculously precise amounts of sugar and cream and herbs to conjure a perfect cup of the liquid which she adored.

The heavenly sweet honey he had poured in to negate the bitter nip of the dried herbs coated her throat as it slid down, mildly taking some bite from her foul mood away. Milky white steam curled and wisped about her pallid face in a tender caress that comforted her clammy, pallid skin and padded the morbid aching in her skull to merely a dull thud.

Gathering the quaint ceramic plates of the sparse breakfast back upon the silver, ornamented tea tray, the former spinner offered his mistress a look of comfort that warmed her far more than the tea ever could. "Take heart, mistress, the morning sickness doesn't last forever."

"True, only to be replaced by something far worse than a spot of miserable nausea and vomiting." She deadpanned in retort with a disgruntled snort. "Soon my belly will begin to distend, odd cravings, and heaven knows what your spawn inside of me shall do to warp my magical abilities."

At that, thin, gouging lines of worry furrowed across Rum's face before he managed to banish them away another moment later. Casting another imperceptible glance Belle's way, he could see behind the dark fury and onyx blankets of scathing anger lay true fear that lay ahead in the months to come as the tiny life dwelling in her grew.

She had never been a mother before, and perhaps that was the most terrifying consideration that gnashed at her mind without relent and sickened her more than the nausea.

For that one moment all he desired was to drop the laden tray in his arms and race to her with tender words of comfort. How he craved to have her encircled in his wide protective hold and whisper the months that were now splayed out before her and enshrouded by banked mists of the unknown would not be a lonely road she would have to traverses alone!

He felt so fervently eager to press her lips against his own and soothe her worry and banish it back to the lurking darkness prowling the outskirts of her thoughts, that the urge was nearly painful to fight from his body doing just that.

Adjusting a few squat ceramic bowls upon the tray expertly, Rum shrugged laconically in attempts to make himself sound normal and nearly careless in his words. "Well, whatever may come along during these months, I am at you beck and call milady. I'll always be here when you need me."

"Not like you have much of a choice, slave." Belle scoffed derisively, hoping to score a visible hit of pain upon him in her wrath and quivering belly that swirled with nauseas malignance.

"It is more than that." He replied simply, excepting the jab even though it was meant to wound, but widely missed its mark. "I have vaster obligations now to you and the child I've sired, despite my captivity."

The fiendish beauty wasn't and shouldn't have been surprised to hear such words, so caringly and dutifully spoken fall from her slave's lips, but she was stunned just the same.

Her cerulean eyes frantically scanned every inch of his wiry form for one hint, one slight twitch that would give his words away as a stark, brazen lie, and yet there was only truth in every word.

It suddenly dawned on her that he meant to take care of her in every possible way he knew how. He was duty bound to her now and he had accepted the intrepid challenge of being there for her during every minute of her carrying of his child whether she ordered it or not.

In some way it made the beauty reminiscent to the breath taking tales of warrior fearlessly rushing into battle and the unknown, except Rumpelstiltskin was defiantly not a brave knight in glistening plate.

As he clattered off carefully with his burden of gilt tea bowls and inscribed platters in his precarious grip, Belle sat staring blankly at the last faintly glowing embers in the main hall hearth. The last of the cooling cinders radiated a pallid orange hue that seemed akin to the old emotions she felt being dredged up from her long forgotten black soul, but instead of waxing into cold, dead embers they were slowly being fed a strange heat she had never felt so poignant in all her long centuries.

A smile tugged at the very edges of the corrupted beauty's lush pink lips as she tilted her head down to her inconspicuous belly that gave only a vauge hint of a tiny life at present. "You are very lucky, whelp, to have a spectacularly caring Papa such as Rumpelstiltskin."

Ice suddenly ensorcelled about Belle's heart like a frozen bony corpse talons had clutched it in its frigid grip and squeezed it in a shattering vice. The beauty visibly winced while she placed her cup down upon the table with mildly trembling hands.

What was she thinking to randomly start talking to the brat seeded in her belly! She would have nothing to do with the child, yet there she was speaking tenderly to it as though she had a right to pretend she cared and loved for the thing.

With a dark grimace, Belle shook her russet head and snatched up the ceramic trinket again to sip at the comforting and assuaging brown brew and mull over her dire contemplations that bit into her heart like a venemous serpent.

~8~8~

The golden orb of day had well retreated into its repose behind the dark coppices of firs and pines in the west before Rumpel managed to drag his worn hide back to his stall in the stables.

The coarse gray stones that remained eternally cool were heaven to his aching, bedraggled form as he slipped inside the dimly moonlit stables and shut the heavy oaken doors. While his body was beat and tired and muscles sore, the former spinner had a flaming vibrancy inside that had been dimmed and tarnished by years of misfortune and loss he had trudged numbly through.

Beaming proudly, Rum pulled of his dark crimson, sweat drench wool tunic as he casually spoke to the pleasantly napping, nightmarish stallion. "Can you believe it, Brimstone? I am to be a father again!"

If horses, especially those torn from the depths of Hades and flame could laugh, the fiery charger certainly did. Little wheezes caught between a whinny and a whine blustered from the beast's mouth; his cinder like topaz eyes set aflame in mirth at the spinners proclamation of joy.

Rum's lips dipped into a displeased downturn of agitation while he scrubbed his face clear of stray smears of dirt and grime in a spare trough he claimed as his own. "Quiet, you, it's not funny." He spat defensively.

Scrubbing his face dry, the former spinner all but collapsed on the heap of dry straw that served as his bed. Lying on his back, Rum tucked his arms behind his head as his warm whiskey brown orbs stared up at the gray stone ceiling, mottled with flecks of dark green moss that had grown in-between the small striations and cracks. Dour gray and morbid teal entwined in a way which seemed akin to some child's scribbling upon the rafters in mindless, meandering patterns.

"I haven't been a father in a long time." The former spinner admitted aloud to the still highly amused steed. "My son, Baelfire, abandoned me years ago because I failed in my labors of being a good parent." At that a twinge of sharp pain akin to a dagger thrust pierced the former spinner's heart as he recalled the last instance he had seen his son.

_It had been a dark, dreary day with the sky shrouded over with threatening grayish-black masses of engorged clouds that were just beginning to unleash their icy contents which pattered to earth in large fat, cold droplets. _

_He remembered staring helplessly at his son, a broad shoulders, lanky lad just beginning to bloom into his mid teen years, looking down upon him in unveiled disgust as he attempted to rise. Cruel young boys had taunted them both mercilessly on their trek back from market and yanked Rum's crooked, heavy oaken crutch from under foot; sending him careening into an icy puddle of foul mud._

"_Why do you have to be so useless!" Bae roared hoarsely at his father. _

_The devilish laughter and taunts of 'cowardly cripple and coward's son' the mischievous boys hollered still echoed stingingly about the clearing like arrows that accurately found their marks, as Bae fought back a well spring of hot, frustrated tears that shimmered mistily in his light brown eyes. "Why didn't you just die on that battlefield like all the rest!" _

_Rum's leg screamed in sharp agony, the scarred muscle and mauled bone straining in sheer torment as he attempted to rise through the filthy black mire of mud. _

_The poverty stricken spinner nearly managed to wobbly get to his one good foot; leaning heavily upon his slippery crutch, but he lost his footing at the last moment and tumbled back into the sopping muck that coated his frail form. _

"_Son." He sputtered and hacked through a mouthful of gritty, wet earth, his lungs burning with huge heaves of effort to clear the filth from his nostrils. _

_He wanted to say he was sorry, like all the other times, but the word clogged in his mud caked throat and tightened in a strangling vice with tears of shame. _

"_No." Bae growled suddenly, his voice calm and cool like a gust of frigid, buffeting wind. His brown eyes, void of the tears once ready to be shed, held nothing but scathing hatred and shame for his father as he watched him writhe in the mire of mud. "Not this time, Papa, never again. Sorry does not make up for the lives you ruined. My mother…me, all of us you have let down!" The growing teen stared down at his father with soulless, shards for eyes as he turned away from his cripple of a sire. _

'I hope you die there in the mud where you belong.' Were the last words he had ever spat to his father before running off for a life of his own. They were cruel words that had branded the cripple to his very soul and snuffed out his reason to live, but coward that he was, he still feared the realms of death too much to simply waste into nothingness and die.

Calloused fingers twirled a stray strand of straw which he toyed with absently through his thoughts that he spoke more to himself that to the monstrous steed. "There wasn't much I could offer or do for him, worthless cripple that I was, but I have a chance to change that now. I can be a good father." Rum stated hopefully to himself.

Swiveling his head over to where the nightmarish horse stood in the next stall, the former mendicant's maple brown orbs flashed precociously in worry. "Do you think I will make a good father?"

The beast torn from terror swished its tendrils of dark tail in flustered agitation and made a vague snort that caused a plume of midnight soot to spew from his nostrils at the indiscernible gesture.

A worried frown gouged upon the slaves weary features as he hunkered down fitfully on his pallet of straw. He closed his eyes, but all he could see was the back of his son's ragged tunic as he walked away forever, through mud and tear smeared eyes. "Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of." Rumpel sighed defeatedly.

Concerned as he was for what road lay ahead, Rum felt his weary body slowly sinking into the realm of slumber. He was nearly fully into a thankfully dreamless doze, when he felt something akin to a ghostly voice of a long deceased specter whisper into his ear.

To any other, the ethereal voice, so slight and chilled drifted upon the midnight air might have put harrowing fear into another, but he knew immediately Belle was summoning him to the Dark Castle.

Despite his fatigue, the spinner scrambled up in a panicked flurry of golden stalks of flying straw as he bolted for the door in a frenzied race. His bare chest bellowed like a blacksmith's forge as he burst into the dim main hall then tramped rapidly up the dark, winding stair case that led to his mistress' chambers.

By the time the timid Rum arrived at his destination and exploded through the door that led into Belle's chambers, his lungs burned with scorching fire, and his already weak legs trembled faintly.

"Impressive." Belle acknowledged with a pleased nod, as her slave entered into the beauty's chambers. "It took you about two minutes to get up here."

The Dark One wasn't lying in bed, or even resting, but staring out of the window overlooking the accursed grove fringing the border of her estate. Tree tops glistened a silvery pale gloss from the curved moonlight, giving a mystical luminance to shimmer in pallid shafts through the haunted glades. One could almost see the agony ridden, murdered ghost of ages past flitting amidst the darkened boughs and the oblique beams breaking through the thick canopy to reveal their eternal torment.

"Belle." Rum heaved her name in a deep exhale like as air bellowed from his worn form.

The vile Dark One didn't turn to him, but stared out of the clear glass pane to the cobblestone path below that glimmered the tranquil luminescence of the smiling moon. "I was thinking, having you all the way down in the stables while I'm up here is not very beneficial when I need you immediately." She explained thoughtfully, her hand absently pawing away a strand of her dark amber tresses back behind her ear.

"Allow me a blanket and I'll sleep outside your door then, milady." The former spinner replied steadier as his breath and heart slowed to their natural rhythm.

A ghost of an amused grin marbled upon the beauty's lovely features at his words that never ceased to surprise her. "A noble gesture Rum, but I can't afford to be tripping over you every time I leave the room at night." She chuckled demurely.

Running a hand through a shock of his dirty brown locks, the former spinner heaved his scrawny shoulders in a slight helpless shrug. "What do you have in mind, mistress? For me to sleep here?"

'Yes', nearly, very nearly, erupted from her pink lips so fast, the disturbing beauty had to bite down on her bottom lip to keep the words locked inside her heart. Despite the inward scolding of the darkness inside her mind that consistently reasoned and vehemently argued to the contrary, the beauty did in fact miss his presence in her bed.

She craved his emanating warmth pulsing from his body as she curled up close to his lanky form, and his reassuring touch that coaxed her into a lull of peaceful slumber that had determindly evaded her before he had stumbled upon her estate.

"No." Belle lied evenly in a deep breath. Flourishing her spell clever fingers through the cool air, the beauty pointed towards the door, letting tendrils of her ruby hued magic to waft through the drafty atmosphere. "Another room close by is available. Tomorrow you may gather what little you possess and bring it to your new quarters."

"You…you mean I don't have to sleep in the stables any longer?" He inquired in surprise at her sudden generosity she tried to mask as convenience.

He wasn't fooled by her sly nonchalant attitude that cleverly masked her true emotions she was continuously fearful would be seen as a weakness. But why would she possibly do such for him was the question he pondered in awe. She had never cared a wit for his well being of resting in the sparsely adorned stall before.

An irked snort emanated caustically from the beauty as she offered him a small vapid nod. "That's exactly what it means. It's high time I stopped sending you to cold stable and a heap of straw like an over worked beast of burden. You are dutiful in all your chores, and I have a vast series of rooms, so it won't be a challenge to accommodate you."

Even though she didn't turn to him, the beauty caught his grateful reflection, for a room all his own, glaring upon the glass pane.

Without another word he dipped into a deep reverent bow once and padded out of the room and stalked out to find his new chamber just down the dimly lit corridor.

The soft click of the hefty oaken door being fully closed was the only think that held testament to his departure from his mistress' lavishly resplendent chamber.

Straining her sharp hearing to its very discernable limit, Belle made certain he was gone and had delightedly collapsed upon his new bed to crawl under the pearl blue quilt and ivory white, fresh, linen and goose down mattress before she herself numbly staggered to the edge of her bed.

Sliding down, the Dark One held her head in her hands, allowing the darkness festering inside her to berate her kind actions without clemency. She was the Dark One, the bane of all the realms, and yet she showed unwarranted kindness and tenderness to the worthless straggly hunk of flesh she called a slave.

Her volatile emotions, so torn between the stalwart factions of fondness and coldness towards her Rum, battled with utmost tenacity in a bloody war of dominance for her heart; in a swirling mixture of indecision and tumultuous feelings towards her slave.

She would have never done somthing so kind for him months ago, she would have never given a second thought to words that seemed eager to leap from the threshold of her lips. Now, everything was in shifts and changes and turmoil that she couldn't possibly even begin to broach or comprehend!

"By the darkness what is wrong with me." She murmured quietly in mournful self loathing. Running a trembling hand through her maple locks, the disturbing beuaty shook her head at a complete loss of the changes taking hold. "What's happening to me?"


	16. Relaps

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing!_

**~8~8~**

"Where is my curse, Belle!" Regina screeched in an enraged roar as she burst through the main thick oaken doors of the Dark Castle in a stampede of anger.

Roiling clouds of sinister ebony tinted magic's rumbled like ominous storm clouds nipping at her heels whilst streaks of silver glistened and clawed along the floor amidst its foul vaporous shrouds with every one of her sturdy steps. Billowing vapors of onyx darkness churned and guttered about her like oily black smoke of burning corpses making her seem akin to a demon clambering up from the horrid pits of Tartarus and unto the realms in all her vile resplendency.

Her black, lacy finery and shimmering ebony silks, studded with large black tear drop pearls, rustled like a flurry of autumnal leaves caught amidst a blustering, wicked zephyr, while her six inch tall stilettos rapped a brisk rhythm upon the gray floors in some morbidly sharp death dirge echoing about the stoic columns and harlequin tapestries with every pounding thrust of the pointed end stabbing into the stone.

Anger, seething and hot as white coals, flecked in her glassy teal orbs, as she stomped determinedly, like a furious dragon, to the Dark One's lavish library.

Forcing the ornate, alabaster doors to slam open with a flick of her slender wrist, the witch tramped upon the gilt chamber in flustered triteness. In one aspect it might have seemed akin to her being late for some sort of fiendish ball, if the fire of hell itself wasn't boiling just beneath her pallid flesh, of course.

Her sickly marsh green eyes scanned the secluded sanctuary of tome and books in a predators rabid rage, searching for the woman she loathed more than the resurrected Snow White.

Per usual the disturbing beauty sat perched upon her normal plush window seat, lounging upon her side like a languorous, lazy house cat about to nap in the weak rays of the glorious autumn sun.

A light coverlet of mottled forest green was draped over the lower half of her form, while her delicate fingers gingerly toyed with the corner of a pages edge; eager to turn to the next sprawled letters she craved so.

A small, somewhat dangerous, smile directed towards Regina's ire curled at the fringes of her lush, rosy lips as she allowed herself a brief glance of her cobalt eyes away from her books and to the raging, arrogant queen bristling with anger and magic that crackled off her skin.

"So nice of you to knock, old friend." Belle deadpanned sarcastically as she flicked the page over with scarcely a twitch of the wrist. Her bright orbs remained focused on the exciting tales of brave princes and wise monarchs wove upon the parchment as she vaguely allotted the ostentatious sorceress a trifle of her attention.

"My curse, Belle!" The dark sovereign demanded with a fierce snarl that snapped from her carnelian dabbed lips.

Brow knit angrily in uncomplimentary lines wrinkling across her unblemished skin, Regina's jade eyes steeled aglow with stark, unabashed temper that relayed her true emotions rather than her normal polite formality or false pretense of friendliness. The evil monarch forced herself to choke back a rather barbaric profanity to spew from her mouth towards her age old nemesis.

Strutting grimly towards the vile beauty's resting spot, Regina punched a delicately gloved fist into her free palm to drive home the exact toll of her abject ire and frustration. "Where is my curse? It's been months now, and you have yet to deliver!"

Months she had spent eagerly awaiting news from the powerful fiend in regards to her curse. She spent days pacing in her harrowing tower of deathly repose, picking up strands thoughts and loosing them again and brooding darkly over her failed plot with the meddlesome Snow White.

A dark chuckle eased from the fiendish beauty full lips as she snapped the brown tome closed. Her smile, a thin mockingly pleasant line of faded pink to taunt her adversary bloomed merrily upon her glowing skin. "Oh, that curse. It's quite simple, really, I am not done." She admitted with a lighthearted and helpless shrug.

"You've had over half a year and _still _you can't deliver upon my curse?" The harpy spat, looking akin to a bratty child who had been thwarted from getting what they desired by some unavoidable stipulation.

Her lithe form seemed to shrivel in the radiance of the golden rays beaming down bravely upon her, giving the wicked sorceress a look of a fresh corpse, newly arisen from its grave and stunted by the light of the bright sun it now detested. Anger definatly showed her natural ugliness from behind the curtains of painted rouge and coal.

"It's not simply any curse." Belle argued calmly, her tone even and mild. "A black spell that will spiral all we know into a land without magic, besides erasing everyone memories, and detailing a few of my own allowances for myself interwoven together, is not to be taken lightly by any stretch of the imagination. You should be grateful I even decided to forge the curse."

With another sinister chortle she heaved her slender shoulders in a careless nonchalance. "But, if you think you can do a better, more thorough, job of creating the curse then by all means have at it." She added with a sly after thought and a superior, knowing grin tracing upon her features.

Regina wouldn't dare, she knew without a hint of doubt. The harpy was a craven when it came to matters that involved her lovely flesh being ripped asunder by the darkness and her mind peeled layer by agonizing layer to memories that even had to haunt the loneliest corners of what she termed a soul.

If looks could kill, the enraged monarch would have trasmuted Belle into a crimson oily stain splattered upon the monolithic window, bits of her seeping into the dark indigo velvet drapes in large clumps of blood and flecks of pink flesh, and dripping in thick dollops of acrid slime from her favorite sunlit perch to leak upon the rose tinted marble.

Rage boiled right under the marred surface of the witches pallid continence. Anger too bright and scathing seemed to gall the very marrow of her bones, and grip her heart in hatred.

She knew she hadn't the power to weave and master a dark spell such as that, or enough clout to beseech the darkness for that power which might have very well gotten herself killed or maimed at such a dangerous request!

A forced, charmingly devilish smile suddenly bloomed gently upon the sorceress' glossy blood red lips as the vile monarch let a false, tittering laugh erupt from her mouth. The air quickly fell back to their normal, not quite comfortable, balance to make appearances as though her riled, impatient anger had been naught but a elaborate joke between two good friends.

"Dear, you know well I wouldn't attempt such a dangerous ritual. Besides, you have a certain skill binding absolute darkness. The magic we wield, does appreciate things it holds enthralled in its evil grip entirely, does it not old friend?" She taunted in her coaxing allure that sounded jesting, but was sincerely meant like the honeyed, poison barbed it was hurled as.

The chestnut haired beauty only replied with a slight accepting incline of her head as she tactfully hid a pained grimace at the stabbing words that pierced their tender mark. Somewhere in what little was left of the coppery haired beauty of old was a bright woman who craved freedom as much as she did literature.

Regina's words, even laced with venom through a veil of comradely jibbing did ring true. The puissant powers of the darkness owned her as much as she did Rum, perhaps more so, for she could never lay claim to the timid cripples kind soul as the evil had grasped her and tainted it with black until it held her fully in its dastardly thralldom.

Sighing in defeated acquiescence that she was not to collect her prized curse, the queen frowned deeply in disapproval as she stared in exaggerating boredom about the room she had always thought useless and dull with nothing but leather backed tomes lining the vaulted walls.

In mere seconds, however, she twiddled her gloved fingers to summon a chair to her side in determination to swallow the bitter pill of gracing her rival with her presence so their charade of friendship could continue on without a hitch.

Resting gingerly upon the leather backed seat, the evil sorceress forced another veiled smile as she folded her hands genially upon her lap. "Now where is that slave of yours to bring us tea? Oh do tell me you got bored with him and turn him into a garden snail or other." Regina tacked on in a snickering chuckle of cruel delight. One could always hope of course he had met a despicable demise.

"Tea, oh how absolutely boorish of me to forget." Belle clapped her hands gracefully, though there was no missing the edge of steel and fire leeched upon her tone.

Perching a neatly plucked brow slyly, Regina grinned ruefully; not missing one detail of her powerful foe. "Has something come between you and your scrawny beggar, Darling?" The witch probed lackadaisically.

One of her mourners gloved hand tucked under her chin as her jasper orbs peered at the Dark One with an intriguing curiosity, a vile amusement at her displeasure lacing her mockingly concerned tone.

Rum appeared moments before Belle could speak a word of denial concering her slave. His head was bent dourly, towards the golden tray and it contents of gilt sugar bowls heaped with their namesakes and sweet creams, to mask the worry and gut clenching alarm etched direly across his face.

Nothing seemed worse than the vile woman, Regina catching even the faintest wind of the babe residing in Belle. The sheer horror that would produce might even have his mistress reconsider her thoughts on what to do with the child.

"He's inept is all." The fiend replied casually, her azure eyes holding no amount of alarm whatsoever though she frowned in clear displeasure at the former spinner shuffling towards them in broken drudgery like a cowed animal. "Dumb as stone these peasant types are, you know. If I don't cause him pain, he'll never learn."

Shrugging in carelessness, the sorceress sighed in acquiescence to Belle's words and snatched up an elegant silver tea spoon and ceramic saucer to mingle in her own additions to her tea.

The vile sovereign took precarious precaution to tend to her own cup of the warm brew and make certain it indeed was sugar and not salt laced amidst the contents of her drink.

"I could have told you that, Belle darling, nothing but trouble." She replied congeinally.

Her jade eyes held flecks of scalding rage, as she recalled the instance he had slipped the salt into her cup, making her a fool of the afternoon. One thing Regina hated the most in her bitter life was to be humiliated or tricked. Heads had rolled for smaller offences than his bold plot to embarrass her. "If you no longer need him, I'll be happy to take him off your hands. I have the perfect little torture chamber with-"

She got no farther as the hot air was stolen from her lungs in one huge blow that shattered the once bristling, but calm magic wafting thickly about the room into a veritable whirlwind of destruction and danger that prickled the skin and raised Goosebumps along flesh.

Crimson magic's flared brightly in streaks lashing through the air and curled around Regina in sharp, greedy claws that easily broke through her own conjured magical barriers as a hot knife through soft butter and dug cruelly into her ashen flesh with its needle like tips; trying to worm their way to the bones beneath the pale skin.

Her jade eyes widened with stark, surprising terror as she found herself ripped from her seat and flung to the cold floor to be stuck there like a physical hands had slammed her body and pinned her to the rose hued marble with eager, murderous intent to throttle her senseless.

"You will never say anything such as that again in my presence." Belle hissed dangerously in clear, dire threat, her lips curled back in a beastly snarl. Her azure eyes hardened into blades of frigid cobalt steel that cut into the sorceress deeper than the knife like claws of the magic itself.

"S-struck a nerve, did I?" Regina stuttered through grit teeth. Even though her body was pinned in misery and torment, there was an unmistakable victorious grin wavering upon her ruby painted lips every moment she wasn't gasping or screaming in pain.

She had planned it, Belle realized with a bright bolt of clarity that nearly made her loose focus of the magic erupting from her fingertips.

The harpy suspected something amiss between her and Rumpelstiltskin and laid a trap that the sordid beauty had so stupidly flung herself into the very midst by being lured to wrath with a few well placed words.

By loosing her temper over such a careless trifle as a slave who should have been as easy to dispose of as refuse and not given a hint of care over, Belle had shown that some thing had indeed changed the last time Regina had squirmed her way inside the Dark Castle. It was dangerous information to say the least!

Yet how dare she utter some careless statement about torturing her Rum! Blood fevered akin to fire through her veins at the very though that portended driving her caring servant into a corrupted world of mindless agony in Regina's dungeons.

She could well imagine his throes of writhing agony and splintered bones and skinned flesh where all he would do was piteously beg for the sweet release of death through blood stained lips and painful, sharp stabs of breaths.

All remained in tenuous silence for long tortuous minutes, the library remained oddly devoid of any sound save only intermittent sharp intakes of air from the evil queen smothered upon the marble.

Beating her dangerous temper in check once more, Belle furled her always ravenous magic's back to allow the dark sorceress to rise ungraciously to her feet to lurching humiliation.

Regina stumbled upon her flowing ebony train and thick folds of dark silks as she arose, but managed to stay upright as she staggered back to her haughty airs with a smooth, practiced ease.

"Go." Belle spat simply, the words spewing from her mouth like deadly, spiders venom as though daring to be challenged.

Eyes of the darkest jasper suddenly narrowed hatefully towards the beauty in the inward scathing heat of Regina's rage. Insultingly dusting a few barely visible specks of gray grime off her flamboyant garb, the queen nearly opened her mouth to speak another word, but decided upon the last moment to shut her lips.

She wasn't a moron after all. To invoke Belle's fury too far to the precarious brink of demise could very well have her slain; fie upon the consequences.

"I won't forget this little incident." Regina promised dryly, her voice dripping malice laced revenge.

A slight hum of magic thrummed through the air as Regina waved her fingers slowly through the atmosphere and dark magic's encircled her to ferry her back to her castle over looking the enchanted sea.

Even though she left with nothing but a shattered bit of her pride she hastily snatched up from the library floor, the knowledge something had defiantly changed between Belle and her slave, was more than enough recompense to balm her outlandish ego and plot to her advantage.

Leaning her head back against the mildly warmed window pane, Belle closed her eyes and let a gusty sigh of relief bellow from her form as she swiped her clammy forehead with the back of her hand. "That was close. Another minute and I'm certain she would have noticed."

At that, the beauty allowed the green coverlet to slip away from her form and pool in a small heap of cotton at her feet, revealing the distended bulge of her swelling belly straining at the fibers of her soft sunset yellow tunic.

Rum's thickbrow knit furtively as he kneeled by her side protectively. He could feel no magic tingling through the air to banish some sort of spell, meaning Belle hadn't worked any powers to disguise her pregnancy. "I don't understand, mistress. Why did you not simply cast an illusion upon yourself to make it appeared you were not with child?"

Certainly he had seen her enshroud the magic about her like some cloak sewn of her ruby tinted powers to make it seem as though no child grew in her belly. Though he never truly felt comfortable having the dark magic coil about the tiny, he acquiesced to the wisdom of the spell when she rambled about the realms answering the pleas of the desperate.

"I was rather taken by surprise in Regina's unexpected audience." Belle admitted with a rueful frown. A spell clever finger tapped her chin thoughtfully while she stared at the last place the craven harpy had stood. "Her magic's, while nowhere near in comparison to those I wield, would have immediately sensed the tingling, tell tale, spells to hide something, alerting her instantly I was urgently attempting to shield something from her immediate notice."

A sudden mirthless, satirical laugh erupted from her lips, holding a small dose of frustration towards herself flitting upon the edges. "To think, the only thing that kept the knowledge you your spawn secure was a green cover and a wish upon a star."

"At any rate, I'm vastly relived she didn't uncover its existence." Rum remarked tenderly whilst he tended to preparing another piping hot cup of tea for his secretively shaken mistress.

Nearly half way through the pregnancy, and so far the meek Rum had to count his blessings that nothing dire had insofar occurred concerning the child or his mistress.

They had had their horrid days where tepid silence or pain was the only thing to greet them, and odd craving to assail Belle's now supremely picky palate, but nothing as troublesome as some rivals or an intrepid challenger bent on heralding the dawn of a new Dark One had plagued them.

A nearly undetectable grin bloomed upon the beauty's lovely features, as she grasped the warm ceramic and sipped precariously at the soothing brew to appease her slightly protesting gut. "By the way what took you so long to get here?" She asked, almost as an after thought to banish the unpleasant meeting with the black clad vulture Regina from her ponderings.

"Oh yes!" Rum snapped his calloused finger in a self scolding manner; just recalling what he had been doing before danger had prowled in the darkened halls and under the guttering torchlight.

Belle watched with baited intrigue as her dutiful slave slipped quickly out of the room only momentarily. Trekking back in with a nearly unnoticeable swagger to his step, the timid Rum produced small, fluted glass vase brimming with an assortment of fragrant wildflowers from behind his back.

Petals of the brightest yellow and blushing pinks mingled with cheery red hues and soft azure tint were all bunched together in one pleasant cornucopia of color that accented the other vibrant tones in perfect harmony that splayed out in the crystal spiraled vase.

"I…uh… thought they'd look nice upon your window seal." He commented with a nearly shy up heave of his scrawny shoulders in a nervous shrug. One could almost see the hopeful prayer shimmering in his dark chestnut orbs that she'd find favor with his little gift. "They were to be a surprise, but Regina certainly threw that off. I doubt you'll be hoping for anymore surprises for today, especially a stupid bunch of mismatched flora."

Belle stared at the former spinner almost in blank incredulity; fighting with all her will not to grin at the sweet gesture. For a tremulous moment in times eternal trek there was absolute silence twixt him and her before the Dark One burst into merry peals of ridiculous laughter bubbling helpless from her lips. "We cannot do this, Rum." Her thick, dark amber hair swayed as she shook her head mournfully in some inward turmoil.

If Regina's impromptu visit had shown her anything, it reminded her that she was the Dark One, who cared for no one else but herself. She couldn't allow herself to fall prey to sweet thoughts or grins or jests to weaken her memory concerning what she was and what malignant powers owned her mind, body, and soul.

Admitedly she had once, secretly, fancied what it would be like to raise a child with him; to be happy and content without darkness shadowing her soul or festering in her thoughts to corrupt her sanity. But that could never be, and every kind gesture he made or uttered only brought pain to that knowledge.

"Do what, Mistress?" The former spinner inquired confusedly, his head cocked slightly to the left.

Placing the lovely bouquet of blooming wild flowers upon a wide, polished table where the suns paltry beams of fall sun managed to suffuse the velveteen multi-hued petals with warmth, Rum took his place subserviently back at her side.

Hard flecks of stone suddenly flashed darkly in her cobalt orbs as the beauty grimaced towards her caring servant. No, she could not allow his tenderness to corrupt her so and lure her away from the evil. He was a blight upon the wonderful darkness she wallowed in; trying to coax her out into a world of light that she abhored and feared.

"Do not presume to think that once this spawn of yours is out of the womb that we will fall into the strange niche of some sort of _family_." She disgustingly spat the last word as though it left a bitter taste on the tip of her tongue. How she detested the mere thought.

The timid spinner could have denied that deep secret desire welling in the last futile hopes of his thudding heart. He could have shaken his head in refute to her claim, but he was not the only one who could peer behind the veil of a front and peel away the disguised layers to the blatant truth beneath.

He dipped his head down to stare at the reflective marble in solemn reverie, like a prisoner found guilty of a harsh crime. The locks of his dirty brown tresses curtained his face as he spoke with the last reserve of his already limited courage. "It is your child as well, milady." Rum reasoned in a quite timbre to temper her coming wrath.

Raging anger simmered in the devious beauty's dark cerulean eyes for his open admittance to desiring her to be a part of the spawn's life. "I told you the first day I found myself with your blasted brat I'd have nothing to do with it!"

"But it's your child as well!" Rum reiterated in a sturdiness that inwardly took the Dark One aback at his sudden zealousness to not abandon the argument and except her words as final law.

His grim expression held testament that he knew acutely he was treading dangerous ground upon the erupting fissures of her flaring temper, but the stoic glimmer flecking his orbs and the grim clench of his prickly jaw steeled his hardy resolve. "I did not conceive the child by myself. I didn't magically conjure the babe inside of you. It is your child as much as it is mine."

"I don't want it!" Belle roared angrily in his face. Crimson flooded her paled, sun gleamed parlor. Hands curled into tight fists at her sides as she fought the urge to slam them down upon the gilt tray between them in her incorrigible frustration and shatter everything to bits.

"Then why even keep the babe?" He exclaimed in frustrated retort, matching her anger with fire of his own. His hands suddenly gripped hers in a desperate want of understanding as his warm orbs of brown searched her own, sky blue eyes frantically. "If you don't even desire to know your own child why carry it all these months!"

"Plans perhaps." The russet haired beauty snapped back before she could lock the foolish words of rage away.

Anger suddenly melted away, like summer sun beaming upon a layer of morning frost, as misunderstanding and horror bloomed upon the timid spinners scruffy features as his hand eased limp from hers.

She couldn't possibly mean what had slipped so readily past the barrier of her lips. Surely not even she was so black hearted. "You would bargain your own child away in some fashion of a deal?" He inquired aghast, his brow furrowed in disturbing revelation.

"If the price is tempting enough." She countered matter-of-fact, her eyes hardened like twin faceted sapphire engraved upon her anger gouged face. Part of her solemnly wished to yank back the words as though they had never been, but pride and rage buried the feeling as soon as it began to glimmer even faintly amidst the mire in her heart.

Snatching her hand away from his numbed grip, the beauty carefully disregarded the pained expression etched upon her slave's haggard features as she struggled to rise with her swollen girth. "Your fault, Rum, is that you stupidly mistake me for some caring woman, nervous of motherhood, when the truth is I am a monster who cares nothing for anything but herself." Belle stated casually like an everyday fact.

Inside her soul, however, the darkness lurking in the swamp of her blackness growled in approval of her hastily spat words, feeding it with the evil it craved so. Deviousness that had been void in her for months swelled back upon her spirit in a tsunami of corrupted malignance, washing any tenderness she felt away in one fail crashing of the darkness pushing its way back fully at the head of her war ravaged emotions.

"I won't make that mistake again." He stated in a pained choke of whisper as she strode past him. His words sounded as though she had smacked him dead center upon his face of hypnotized her slave. "If you are so adamant to claim nothing for the babe, then our child will know nothing but slavery under the heel of a cruel hard mistress who might just as well sell them away; not a mother."

Although he did not see it, Belle physically flinched at the monotone despair heavily laced in his melancholic tone, mingled with brilliant flares of righteous anger.

One could almost see the dour frown etched upon his thick five o'clock shadowed chin, and weathered, sun kissed skin.

She had hurt him, she knew instinctively; she had cut a gash deeper in his flesh than her magical pain had ever induced.


	17. Snow

_A/N: Thanks all for reading and your wonderful reviews!_

**~8~8~**

As time went on, fall slowly waned into the greedy, icy grip of father winter who clutched the realms in his frigid talons and blew his chilled breath upon the slumbering earth.

Dark, iron gray clouds invaded the blue heavens, laden with precipitous flakes of snow that blanketed the land in crisp, glistening blankets that rose in a sea of unblemished alabaster. Barren tree limbs, twisted and bereft of their plumage, were caked with powdery snow upon every gnarled branch. Small ponds and rivulets that trickled in meandering brooks during the rest of the seasons became frozen upon their surfaces to seem like large crafted mirrors reflecting the now normal dulled gray firmament.

Yes, in the throes of the frigid winter, with the earth at rest, all lay in a tranquil repose of the frosty season; nested comfortably under its blankets of white until life bloomed awakened to sprawl across its knolls and plains and forests once more.

Two pairs of supple leather boots crunched through the drifted snow, along with four hot, ember glowing hooves that hissed fiercely when they burned through the powdery flakes and wisped steam up from the newly created runoff.

Mistress and servant were garbed warmly for the trek out into the icy realm of winter. Tunics of thick wool and fur lined cloaks attired both their forms which huddled close to the nightmarish horse that constantly emanated warmth rippling from his towering bulk.

Rumpelstiltskin had often loathed the winter when he was but a pitiful peasant. There was never enough wood to keep the fire warm enough to distill his paltry shack with much warmth. Food was scarce and what they could scavenge was normally overly salted and smoked or going bad.

It had been a time when constant fear choked his troubled thoughts and murderously hounded his fogged dreams in the middle of the frigid nights while he wondered would he and his son live through another remorseless cold season.

A contented sigh slipped quietly from the timid spinners chilled lips as he shook the memories away like snowflakes crusted upon his shoulders and wrapped the dark blue, fur lined cloak tighter about his lanky figure. No, he would not recall that time. He was not that Rumpelstiltskin any longer; the mendicant, the cowardly cripple, the dishonored man with a son that bitterly resented being sired by a war deserter with every part of his humiliated being. He was Rum, a man with a child on the way.

Turning his warm whiskey brown gaze, from the endless white at his feet, to the woman dressed in a fiery crimson cloak and golden trimming of fur, Rum couldn't help but feel pride well inside of him though they hadn't exactly been on friendly grounds since that vile harpy, Regina had paid them a less than pleasant visit.

A few stray strands of her thick coppery mane wisped out from her hooded head when the wind blew another frigid gust their way as though in some fashion testing their resolve in its bitter dominion of ice.

She was dressed in a flowing wide dress that trailed along the snow with nary a flake clumping behind its trail to entangle upon the fibers. Every step she took graceful as though she where an intangible being barely whispering over the frozen earth. Her stomach bulged, engorged with the baby inside her, but if it was a challenge to walk in the heavy snow drifts with the burden of the babe she never uttered a word of compliant.

The dark, midwinter months brought her near the end of her third trimester, and thankfully no more incidents with Regina or any other conniving adversaries had taken place.

Though their last argument still stung with a vipers bite into his soul, they managed to get along at a strictly nebulous existence no longer taking time for friendly banter or simply relaxing together, but doing what needed to be done then avoiding the other like the plague had come upon them. What could one very well say to another who refused to understand?

"Here." Belle stated simply in a dry voice that knocked the spinner's contemplations away immediately.

The trio paused at a vast tract of land on the eastern edge of the estate. At one point, Rum had ventured a guess it had been a place for tourneys and fairs in the kingdom of ages past, but now like the rest of the estate it had fallen into uninhabited disrepair and overgrown with dead weeds and ruins under the unblemished snow.

Ruffling the spidery onyx mane of her devilish charger fondly, the disturbing beauty smiled warmly at the beast of nightmare who gave a guttering snort of approval at her attention to scratch behind a twitching ear.

"I know you've been cooped up for a while in the stables. Time for you to stretch your muscles and run so you won't get plump on sugar cubes, Brimstone." She jested mischievously with a small chuckle that made the fearsome stallion harrumph and shake it coarse mane in offence.

Stretching out her gloved, leathered palm towards the ivory land, Belle silently dredged her lurking magic's to her blood and to beckon to her will.

Her crimson darkness erupted from her hand in a swirling, writhing tendrils that spiraled towards their tasks in clearing the snow away. Quite suddenly, the magic sputtered inches away from the frozen earth like a candle upon the last bit of wick.

The Ruby tinted darkness hovered inched upon the hoary land in some sort of foul mist, evaporating in the suns rays, before ultimately guttering away into nothing save steamy wisps upon the frigid breath of wind that was already wafting it away.

"Odd." Belle murmured to herself aloud.

The beauty's brow knit in thin lines of confusion and curiosity as she twiddled her fingers close to her face like the silly action would reveal the problem. There wasn't much worry that the magic had failed, but mere incredulity concerning why it had guttered and receded back into her form.

The timid Rum, cast a glance of concern towards his volatile mistress, his features dancing in worry. He knew all to well what foe would seek his mistress' blood if something had occurred to her abilities or hampered them from being wielded to their full disastrous effect. "Problem?" He dared asked, fearing a snapping reply at some inner ire or panicked alarm.

"It could be." She retorted simply with a careful shrug. "I'm not jumping to conclusions yet. The magic is still inside me, it could be your spawn is somehow interfering with the magic."

"How so, milady? What could an innocent babe have done?" He asked, holding back a stauncher defense of his child. The timid spinner wanted to deny any affect the babe could be having on her. His breath misted upon the crisp air in a cloud of smoke that veiled his features before curling away on the wind as he stared intensely upon her swollen belly.

Her icy cobalt orbs searched the expanse of unmarred white in thoughtful reckoning; her mine dancing in a whirl of ponderings. Face carefully neutral, the vile beauty kicked a clump of snow at her boot for lack of anything better to do. "A women's body fluxes and transforms during pregnancy." Smiling suddenly a hearty chuckle eked past her red, frozen lips. "You of all people should recognize that. I had a hypothesis that the powers festering inside me could be no different. With all the changes my body is being put through, the conclusion makes about as much sense as any other."

Rum did deign to reply but merely nodded dutifully in accepting her logical reasoning. If the babe was the cause, then all that had to be done was to have it be born, which, to his untrained eye even looked nearly to that stage. That too, however, brought up a worrisome serious of other conundrum, but wisely he chose to keep his lips sealed together and not broach such a delicate topic, when it appeared his mistress was in a favorable mood.

"I'll try again and see what occurs." Belle stated suddenly, more to assuage her infamous curiously that had sparked a fever inside her than to settle her slaves growing nerves.

The timid spinner hid an amused grin at her intrigue that had always appeared precious to him when her famed curiosity caught her enthralled. Her intrigue to questions and mysteries seemed as though one scrap of old Belle had been spared all the years of darkness and vile intent that the evil. No matter how terrible its powers and reach, it could do nothing to influence or corrupted her inescapable interests.

Hand open with her palm towards the glistening banks of snow, the beauty's face furrowed delicately as her willpower roused the latent magic's lurking in her veins. She had only meant to concentrate a safe, minute amount of power to test, but darkness surged through her in a blood frenzied, unexpected jolt that was far too powerful than she had actually expected.

Magic erupted from her hand in one massive undulating blood red orb that burst into a fountain of sparks and flashes once it crashed upon the snow with the stench of its foul power rising like the acrid stench of burnt flesh.

After the blindness had abated from their vision and the black and blue dots had vanished from intermittently spotting their sight, Belle looked upon what her handiwork had wrought.

The drifts before her still lay in their beautifully placed yet undesired blankets of alabaster save for one spot where a shaggy pink unicorn stood.

The magical creature's mopped fur was a delicate dimmed pink that cascaded down its form and slightly covered its hooves. A spiraled horn of crystal protruded majestically from the center of his forehead rising in a salute to the marred gray firmament.

Belle stared in blank shock at the equally as confused pony who remained prone and stamping nervously about in the packed snow.

While Belle gaped and blinked in surprise, Rum however waited little time in letting forth a bellowing laugh at the what her now volatile magic's had brought forth. His sonorous hoots of amusement rang about the plaintively quiet lands in muffled echoed that reverberated less mirth than the owner of such laughter.

"A unicorn!" Rum slapped a hand to his forehead, his body still trembling in unabashed laughter. "How in the realms did you do that?"

Beside the spinner, Brimstone snorted a plume of dark ash that mirrored the skies tint as he glared murderously at the unicorn. He was less than amused of such a, rather lovely hued horse looked nicer than he did.

Rearing up suddenly on his hind legs, the monstrous charger let out a frightening whinny of anger before pounding his hooves towards the displaced creature in a deadly gallop.

If unicorns could blanche, most certainly the one summoned to the Dark Castle did.

Its eyes of coral blue widened in terror as its pink hued died to corpselike white. In two seconds flat it too was pounding away to the fringe of the forest with the wrathful Brimstone nipping like sparks of flame upon its snow stained hooves.

The sight, though might have seemed rather ghastly if a person didn't know Brimstone, merely caused another shuddering chuckle through the spinner. Tears of merriment, which cooled as the wind gusted about, coursed down his face in the sheer ridiculousness of it all.

"Oh shut up." Belle fumed towards her slave, her face grim with realization that her powers were completely unpredictable.

If the fiendish beauty detested one thing it was most assuredly unpredictability. Had her powers simply been dimmed and thwarted of their vast magical properties for a time, she could handle that ruse in making appear all was well. But they fluxed as much as her body did, making the situation perilous. Who knew exactly what one spell would bring? A simple incantation could transform into something disastrous to terrorize the realms, while a spell meant to wreak havoc could do nothing but cause a sneeze!

Yet still, even she had to fight back a laugh at the sight of the vainglorious Brimstone pursuing the terrified and confused unicorn through the accursed forest like some vengeful denizen of Hades.

Rum shook his head, unable to comply with her order. "I'm sorry, milady, it's simply too hilarious for wor-." He got no further before icy flakes of cold struck his face in an explosion of snow.

The spinner reeled back in surprise of the meteor of snow hurled upon his face, and fell upon the blanket of cold in a massive heap. Spewing particles of snow from his mouth and swiping flasks from his eyes and lashes, the former cripple stared up at his now laughing mistress.

A mischievous grin bloomed upon her features as she toyed with another snow ball in her hands. "See, that's what you get for laughing."

"Really now?" Rum questioned slyly in his odd accent that Bell had never been able to place, but found supremely alluring.

Staggering to his feet, her servant scooped up a handful of snow to pack together in his calloused grip. His eyes were alight in some childish revelry that became infectious towards the beauty.

They had been on edge with one another for a few months, but ironically it appeared the snow was melting the wall they had built with harsh words and hardened hearts.

He hurled his snow ball through the air, aimed precisely at her face, but the beauty quickly leaned to her right at the last moment to make the missile of powdery white only glance her cloaks hood and sprinkle a few flakes along her rosy cheek.

A nagging part of Belle, prodded her to cease such foolishness with her slave and whisk away to the Dark Castle to ponder how to cover up her fluctuating magic's until the baby came out. But then again, when was the last time she had participated in a snowball fight?

Not since she had been a little girl all those centuries ago, prancing about in the snow with her winter comrades and pelting one another with the lovely flakes or building snow dwarfs with carrot noses they had stolen from the kitchens and making ice fairies by laying on their on their backs in the snow.

"You do realize I've never lost a battle, Rumpelstiltskin." Belle announced with a small chuckle as she scooped up another handful of frozen goodness to roll into a powdery missile. Her lovely azure orbs danced in merriment while her lips curled mischievousness, and she flashed him a cheeky wink. "And I don't intend to start now."

For the next thirty minuets snowballs hurled through the frigid air like arrows upon a field of battle. Clumps of frost were flecked upon trees where mistress or slave had flown for cover and the snow was tramped and crunched into a mess of foot prints and globs of the icy projectiles.

Through laughs and jests and smiles and friendly taunts, Belle for one moment, just one brief thirty minutes in time, allowed no darkness to slime amidst her thoughts. She was young Belle again, with no title but her moniker her father had dubbed her when she was born. Belle, simply Belle with no magic, no ancient powers.

Two more snowballs hit the timid spinner in rapid succession, making the servant tumble upon a false drift of snow that looked more solid than it truly was. Eyes blinded with flakes of white precipitation, Rum laughed through burning lungs that heaved with exertion and cold air tingling through his body and heating his blood.

"Peace, Belle! I submit, you've won!" He chuckled good-naturedly as he attempted to rise from the frozen earth and wipe chunks of already melting snow from his vision.

Belle stared in fondness at her servant, her body heaving in taking in huge gulps of icy air in every rattling intake. Their little snow war had been fun, but she could feel cold pricking against her skin and chilling her bones in warning to find warmth.

Whipping her clock about in a large flourish, the beauty headed towards her dark sanctuary with a now burning need of hot chocolate or tea. Rubbing her hands together rapidly to keep the cold at bay, the Dark One felt her own coldness towards Rum melt away as the snow had done under Brimstone's hooves. Perhaps she should not have said those words those many weeks ago. Had she truly meant them, or were they words spoken of a frightened soul?

With a slight chuckle, the beauty couldn't help but denote how a little snow being tossed wantonly through the cold air and a laugh could soften the blazing anger and wrath in two stubborn hearts that could not accomplish such a feat in a good deal of a third trimester!

Rum could tell by the halt of snowballs hurtling through the air that Belle had more than likely retreated back towards the Dark Castle in search of a fireplace and somthing to warm her up on the inside. He was to one knee in the calf deep drifts of white, his calloused hands scraping away crusts of snow, so he could hurriedly join her, when he felt something colder than the atmosphere about them press threateningly against his throat.

His chocolate brown eyes flew open, even though the melting snow blurred most of his vision to see a figure he thought never to stand before him again.

A scruffy, brown haired warrior stood before the spinner, draped in a heavy bear fur for a cloak; under which a set of glistened chain mail armor bequeathed his muscled form.

His dark brown eyes resembled cold mud splattered against a bearded face of chilled, corpse white. The hatred, the disdain, the utter loathing flashing in those sharp, chestnut brown eyes was unmistakable. It could have been a thousand years and Rumpelstiltskin would have remembered seeing himself lying in a puddle of muck reflected from those glassy, tear brimmed eyes.

"Hello, Papa." Baelfire spat with a malicious sneer that played sinisterly upon his thickly bearded countenance.

The rising knight pressed his expertly cared for broad sword closer to his sire's neck in relished satisfaction of watching his elder's shocked expression and soaking it in in a savoring moment of victory.

It had been a long tormented road, filled with frustration and pit falls as he traversed the realms searching for the 'Dark One'. Nights filled with replaying the years of simply taking the snide remarks and the pitying glances of those who felt sorry for him, and being the son of a coward haunted his every step and burned the fire brighter for him to press on through every hardship. They tormented his dreams and pounced upon him as a predator does a defenseless prey, but drove his stalwart determination to the brink of demise.

After months he had nearly given up and decided to mournfully turn his charger back towards the realm of Uther's command where he could live his life in amity once more, where no one knew he was the son of a disgraced cripple who had fled a battle.

The thought of traversing the haunted glades in the short hours of day was the only thing that had given the knight pause. He was none to keen on making camp under that cursed canopy again for another night.

The deathly wails and cries of those still fettered to the land which they were so cruelly murdered upon drifted about him like the snow fall, and had been enough to freeze his blood solid in his veins.

His charger, for a beast unafraid of the goriest of combat, even against ogres and giants had whinnied like a calf in its first snow and had yanked so fiercely upon it reins bound to a nearby tree the oak had huge gouges of black bark missing the next morning.

Now he thanked that pause of wariness for if he had not, he would have assuredly missed the piercing echo of a woman's scream wafting upon the bone chilling breezes.

Ordering his spooked, shivering charger back towards where the sound had hailed, Baelfire the warrior dashed amidst the thick foliage of snow covered debris and chilled undergrowth, to come upon the fringe of a vast estate that should have been plain to see and yet show for all his wandering in the accursed forest, he had missed entirely.

Pushing aside a huge tangled mess of ivy that enclosed a portion of the estate, he peered upon the vast tracts of land just in time to see a woman race away to an ominous towering citadel of gray stone that sat like a tyrannical throne in the middle of the snow laden lands.

Even from a distance he could perceive the woman in the vibrant scarlet cloak and boots, was heavy with a child in her belly. Her cloaks hood suddenly slipped down from her head revealing her dark amber, coppery thick mane shimmering in the scant rays of gray day.

She was beautiful, more beautiful than anything that deserved to be on the spacious grounds.

The woman in red, turned back to look at something, a satisfied smile tracing her features. Bae followed her eyes to see the object of her victorious grin. His father, trussed up in clothes more fit for a steward than a crippled beggar was yelling back threats, and wiping globs of snow from his face.

She had to have been his prisoner, Bae surmised instantly with out a hint of doubt. His heart filled and pounded like a war drum with the blazing wrath of anger and hatred towards his father. How dare he take a woman captive and get her with child!

When his sire stumbled and fell in a heap to the snow, the woman no doubt gone to hide from her captor in the gray tomb like castle, Bae struck with all the rage steeped and fermented so long inside.

"What's the matter, Papa?" Bae asked in mock confusion, his bushy brow arched incredulously. "Surprised to see me standing here, looking more the warrior than you ever did, or surprised to see a blade at your throat?"

Rum stared in numb, dumb fondness as he merely blinked at his son in attempts to reel his mind back in from the utter shock. Bae had certainly grown since he'd run off. And by the looks of his armor and blade, he'd made something of himself, which in some strange way still filled the former spinner with a fatherly pride.

Melting snow damped through his thick woolen breeches to chill his knees, causing a slight ache where he knelt, but the timid Rumpel was scant aware of the faint discomfort in the face of his heir. "Son!" He cried happily, his heart swelling to see his boy again. No matter what had transpired between father and son, he had missed his boy, his Bae.

A vicious scowl blossomed across the knight's face as he prodded his sword tip deeper into his sire throat with just enough force to break the skin. Blood that struck a stark contrast to the silver gleaming blade and the white snow, dripped from his neck and stained upon the drifts as white in small droplets of crimson.

"You don't have the right to call me that!" Bae snarled fiercely, his eyes flashing with coffee brown chips of hatred. "You may be my sire and the Dark One now, but you will always be Rumpelstiltskin the cowardly, cripple!"

"D-Dark One?" Rum stammered in confusion, his heart thudding widely as he realized his life was on the tip of his son's sword. He had thought, hoped, that some where inside Bae had been a part to forgive his Papa, but simply looking into his chestnut brown orbs hardened with hate and the unquenchable thirst for revenge, he knew there was not even a faintest inkling of hope for such.

Laughing mirthlessly, the knight shook his mop of dirty brown locks sagely. "Don't try to deny it. You may have covered your skin in gray-gold scales and pitiless, voided pits for eyes, but I knew you. Your cowardly stench doesn't wash off no matter what skin you choose to squirm in."

"Uther…" Rum concluded in a strained whisper, his eyes wide with realization.

Bae merely nodded grimly as though the thought left a foul taste upon his tongue. "I was there. After you left with my lieges famed blade, and we realized you had some how stolen one of crack-pot Merlin's artifacts, I wondered how you had miraculously managed to slay the previous Dark One and how you were living nowadays now that you were not on the streets as a pauper with a twist maimed limb, begging for handouts."

His eyes briefly flicked from this father to the grand estate and the threatening Dark Castle with its cursed aura emanated from it like stench off a rotting corpse under a summer sun. "You've done well for yourself I see. Gotten a lavish palace, a huge estate guarded by a haunted forest, and no doubt some of your foul magic's, and even a girl for lonely nights." His face darkened furiously at the thought of the poor woman who must have lamented and mourned her fate in the grasp of his father's cowardly claws.

"Even power and riches couldn't wash away what you are so you had to steal an innocent girl for your filthy pleasures!" Spitting in disgust, Bae quickly removed his blade from his father's throat and brandished it murderous above his head.

What paled yellow sun managed to break through the clouds glinted brilliantly upon the blade as the knight raised it high above his numb father. "I'm doing what I should have done when you were a cripple struggling in the muck. This is for my mother who couldn't bare the heavy burden of shame of being wed to a craven, and for me for all those years I had to carry the disgraced title of 'son'. Good bye, Papa. I hope you find some sort of redemption in the afterlife…"


	18. Reunion

_A/N: Hi everyone! One quick note. I will be away for a few days, so I'm sorry, but I __**might **__not get a chance to update. I won't be by my personal computer. Anyway, sorry for the future delay and thanks for reading and reviewing, Lovelies!_

**~8~8~**

The sound of the blade's deadly swish sang eerily through the frigid air, as Rum looked upon his barbaric son in frozen horror. A thousand thoughts ran through his mind in that one instance of stark numbness that claimed him remorselessly.

If ones entire life could flash before their eyes when they were about to walk over to the next life in the realm of twilight, Rumpelstiltskin's most certainly did and with a vivid clarity.

Memories of his old life barreled their way through his skull in a piercing, painful jolt, while precious moments with Belle in the Dark Castle resurfaced, and above them all contemplations of the future with his child and what happiness might have been if Bae had found him, only without the rotten bitterness that had thoroughly infested his soul. They could have been happy; all of them, without hatred or bile choking and drowning what had once made him true Baelfire and transforming him into a revenge craving beast.

He could have made millions of excuses or threats in the presence of his untimely demise or even protested the act of execution, but his sons words struck cruelly upon the old, festering wound that had only just began to close with the promise of another child on the way and the hopeful start of a new life.

No matter what, he was and would always be a coward who had destroyed his family's life, and brought ruin and shame upon his son. It was his fault Bae was this way; taxed with bitterness and rage dwelling in a deep mire of his soul.

The burden he had carried so heavy upon his, adolescent, frail shoulders had transformed him into a scornful, hard hearted, and bitter young man full of galled revenge that bubbled to overflowing and filled his entire being.

Rum's head dipped mournfully to his chest, his dirty chestnust tresses veiling his mournful features. The life that had dared glimmer and bloom inside of him snuffed out in one chilled snarl of rage and disgust from his son. He deserved demise, and no better to deal that blow than the one he had hurt the most. Had it not been for the lingering thoughts yearning to live for his other child's sake, he might have very well thrown himself upon his son's blade and spared his boy the effort.

"Don't looks so distraught, _Father_." Bae spat the name like a burning acid spewed from his lips making the spinner wince at the vengeful spite. "You won't be alone for long, that spawn inside that poor girl will be joining you soon enough. I'll cut out that monster wallowing inside her if I have to!"

The blades deadly tune rang through the air in a whistle that cut through the solemnity of the grayed day. It's razor steel came near within a hairsbreadth of the spinners dirty brown locks to lop his head off in fail swoop when a sharp whistle and a whinny that sent chills tingling along both son and fathers skin pierced the frigid air like a war horn.

The horse born of nightmare was charging back from the fringes of the haunted glades; hellfire bristling in his furious orange red orbs. Gouts of black smoke trailed from his angrily flaring nostrils as he charged headlong to the knight about to cleave the head off the human who gave him tasty sugar cubes.

Hearing the cry of the blood loving, monstrous horse and the words of what Bae planned to do to the child inside Belle's belly, prodded the timid Rum into decisive, desperate action.

His blood thundered through his veins madly like the dull thuds of Brimstones hooves pounding across the ground, as he scrambled to get up and away from his sons, vengeful grip. Flakes and clumps of alabaster snow flew in every conceivable direction as Rum staggered to his numbed feet and lumbered towards the Dark Castle and the image of Belle standing worriedly upon the slabs of gray stone steps.

"Running again, Coward?" Bae queried menacingly after regaining his senses again from seeing the nightmarish horse thundering towards him in a murderous gallop.

Putting his mailed fingers to his lips, the knight let out his own sharp whistle to echo about the icy air. His palfrey, thick and hardy and garbed in overlapping plates of dark steel and spikes, barreled from the under brush towards the fearless Brimstone in a crazed, yet precise charge.

While the attack momentarily stunned the towering horse, it was more than enough time for Bae to turn away and pursue his craven of a father.

"Belle!" Rum howled his mistress' name in alarm as he staggered to the icy cobblestone of the castle.

His breath churned like a billowing smoke stack while he attempted to suck in huge gulps of the chilling air that fired through his bellowing, tingling lungs and quaked amidst every fiber of chill battered flesh.

Though Belle hadn't seen the moment the knight had appeared through the tangled undergrowth, she knew something was wrong the moment Rum hadn't caught up to her after their battle of snow balls. The thought of warmth by the crackling library hearth with a mug of cocoa or exotic tea should have put strength to his chilled limbs, but the threshold remained cold and silent without hide, nor hair of her slave.

She had taken only a brief instance to catch her breath before stifling a smile and turning back to mockingly scold him in a fond jest for being slower than a pregnant woman near the end of her trimester. When she'd turned the corner, however, her cerulean eyes widened in horror at the sight of some sinewy brute of a knight brandishing his blade to swipe Rum's head clean off.

Immediately she thrust out her hand to summon magic and strike the warrior down in a lance of pain and terrible demise, but the magic flickered pathetically and died moments from sputtering weakly from her hand.

That had in truth filled the beauty with terror such as she had never before comprehended in all her long centuries.

Only a torturously slow moment ticked passed in the realm of time, with her staring blankly in shock at her magic bereft appendage, before her ancient mind began to improvise a different plan. She couldn't get to Rum in time to some how thwart the attack. No, she would need something as quick as the gusting wind.

Putting her fingers to her lips she whistled the legendary tune to call forth Brimstone. Her only hope was that he wouldn't be still so haughty and upset that the lovely unicorn had been called to his territory.

Immediately, as though sensing the danger of the two humans long before the invader had appeared from the fringes of the estate, the towering monster appeared in all his devious glory, snorting and stamping and rearing dangerously on his back legs to drive off the foe from her slave.

A small, relieved grin whispered faintly across Belle's glowing features in hopes that the very sight of the stallion would be sufficient to drive the plate attired figure back. But the knight errant was not to be deterred by any means and whistled for his steed to join the coming fray.

A horse, which glinted in the measly, cream colored, gray light, charged from the ivy growth at a fearless, manic charge. Perhaps it was simply overjoyed to be out of the haunted woods, that drove many animals off, or mayhap the ghosts had beaten it to the brink on insanity as they had done the vile beauty.

Its mouth hung with frothy, bubbling spittle as it whinnied in challenge and struck the surprised Brimstone on his left flank in a thunderous clash of flesh and steel.

Belle filched and uttered a condoling hiss as she saw the impact jar her midnight stallion like a bolt of lightening. One of the horses spiked lances bequeathed upon his armor dug deep into a thick part of Brimstone's haunch causing the terrifying beast to cry in pain and rage. Using its momentum and weight to drive the spear-like armor nearer to the bone, the knight's horse bucked and yanked in all directions to cause more damage to the already injured and profusely bleeding flesh of coarse onyx.

Blood as dark as a moonless night erupted from the beasts gashed open flank in a shower of gore that splatter the gleaming silver coated steed and the snow laden estate in a deluge of the tepid essence.

For a moment it seemed as though the horse whinnied in vile revelry at having struck a hefty blow to the dark Brimstone, but the whine of victory quickly transformed to an earsplitting shriek of surprise and sheer agony as the droplets of onyx essence began to melt the overlapped armor and padding. For a moment, both steeds were stuck together with one bleeding out gallons of blood from the shard of iron tip still gouged in his flesh, and the other wailing as the acidic blood splattered across body and sunk in with its vicious effect.

A part of Belle was overwhelmingly thankful she couldn't smell the stench of the blood and its acidic quality melting through the knights' steed's bulky form.

The beauty could only stare in some repulsive interest at the intensely gory scene before Rum frantically skidded upon the icy cobblestone and raced up the gray stairs towards his mistress.

"Where did he come from?" Belle asked in alarm, forcing herself not to yell the question in the panic she felt gripping her chest in an owning vice.

The timid spinner spared a glance behind him to his son closing in fast in a quick trot that made his armor clank raucously in some herald of demise. He appeared as some tenacious phantom of death seeking revenge from a long forgotten wrong.

"You can't run forever, churl!" He promised, waving his sword like a war pennant.

"Not to be disrespectful, mistress, but you should try to work your magic's now." Rum slowly began walking towards the thick iron banded doors of the Dark Castle, seeking refuge in the stoic walls of rock and wood and gray stone.

Belle turned to her slave sharply; her eyes alit with a sudden irked wrath despite their situation. "Don't you think I tried?" She spat angrily, her body slowly back towards the doors as well.

It had all come to such a storm of bad timing, the fluxes of magic, pregnancy to hamper her steps, and now a bellicose knight come to end the Dark One. Had it not simply been her own delectable, sordid irony, Belle would have probably laughed in vile merriment.

"All we can do now is bar the door and pray to whatever deities will hearken to our pleas that the knight shall be dealt with in some fiery demise." The pregnant Dark One stated evenly as she dipped inside the safety of the Dark Caste.

Inside, however, a bit of her was fuming at the utter humiliation of having to run and hide like a rat in a hole in her own palace! She was the most feared being in all the realms and here she found herself scuttling away from one brute in a suit of mail, wielding a shiny sword! In a different circumstance she would have snapped her spell clever fingers and transformed the dunce into a dewed rose.

With a hard grunt, Rum pushed the heavy iron banded doors closed in an agonizingly slow groan and creak of the wood swinging upon their ancient iron hinges. As they closed with a dull boom, the spinner placed a few items in front to bar the way, just in case his son found recourse to unlock them.

"Do you know who that is?" Belle inquired in a relieved sigh now safe back into her mausoleum of a home. Her blood pounded in her temples and muscles shook tremulously at the near escape they had endured. If the knight chose to linger about the pair had more than enough supplies to keep them content until the babe was born and her magic's would bloom back into their full strength.

He should have told her it was his own flesh and blood that pursed them. He should have admitted the whole truth of having a previous child that left for a life of his own. He should have mentioned there had once been a wife who had given him a boy named Baelfire, and yet coward that he was, Rumpelstiltskin shook his head sagely.

What would his ever changing mistress do if she found out he had kept such things away from her for so long? Present him over to his blood hungry son or do something to harm the babe in retaliation and hurt?

Gulping down huge amounts of warm air, the former cripple rested his head back upon a cooled smooth column. His entire body shuddered from cold, exertion, and adrenaline as he closed his warm dark brown eyes tight.

"No, mistress." He lied, choking back the quirk in his voice that would have betrayed him.

Swiveling her head curiously towards her slave, the beauty's delicate brow knit suspiciously. She nearly probed deeper when a crash akin to thunder on earth threw the moldy, dank corridor into deafen chaos.

Huge chunks of wood hurtled through the air and turned to kindling and charred, smoldering splinters wiping and zinging dangerously through the dank atmosphere as the knightly image of Baelfire stepped through. A devious grin splayed widely upon his bearded lips as he shook his head forlornly. "You didn't think I would come unprepared did you, oh Dark One?" He leered menacingly in a taunt. "Merlin bestowed upon me some of his most powerful potions and spells to aid in defeating you."

Hefting his silver blade back into a battle ready position, the knight laughed mirthlessly as he padded towards Rum. "Now be still and face your demise like a man so I don't have to kill you like the dog you are."

Dark one? The realization hit Belle as though she'd be physically struck. It all made sense, the poor, zealous sod was on a quest, eager to please his lord and test his mettle by attempting to slay the Dark One and garner back Merlin's phial and Excalibur.

Surly any man brave, or foolish, enough to seek out the Dark One to destroy the foul wielder of magic, would be bequeathed with riches and wonders and fawned over by the adoring peasants who held jubilation to the Dark One's reign of terror ended.

"Don't kill him!" Bell cried out before she could even pause the words from flinging from her lush lips. Why had she spoken those words? Why had she jumped to defend a worthless slave when she could have just as easily remained silent and come up with a lie for her innocence?

Bae paused from closing in upon his helpless father. His cold, whiskey orbs fell upon the fiendish Dark One with a pitying air that would have made Belle furious had it been a different situation.

The knight errant, dipped the slightest of respectful bows to her, his mail and plate creaking at the action. "Milady, do not fear; I come to slay this beast and free you from this dire circumstance."

His eyes suddenly became akin to soulless slit as he gaze narrowed upon her swollen girth. "If this cur has impregnated you with his vile seed then I will be glad to seek a way to rid you of such a monster."

Even though she chided herself of feeling her ire rankle at his words, Belle couldn't help but sense her roiling anger stoking to an inferno at his cold comment about the child somehow being a monster.

Every night as she lay awake staring at the ceiling she could feel the babe doing acrobats in her Belle as though impatient to be out into the bright world and curious of its many mysteries like its mother. It may have been inside a monster, but the child was defiantly not a terror as its host.

"You make a grave mistake, fool." The disturbing beauty spat icily, her cobalt orbs darkening into chips of steel. "He is not the Dark One. I am."

"Belle, don't!" Rum blurted; his chestnut eyes wide with alarm and protectiveness. If Bae found out that it had all been a ruse by the true Dark One, he might attempted to slay the now defenseless woman in cold blood.

Snarling, the knight errant grabbed his timid father but the back of his tunics collar and rammed his plated knee in his gut with sickening ferocity; taking the breath out of the spinner in one go. With a gasping, strangled cry of agony, Rum fell in a heap to the ground attempting to regain his stolen breath.

A hearty, amused laugh suddenly barked from the warrior's throat as he shook his head. "You? The Dark One? Whatever enthrallment this scum has put you under I will find a way to break it. But back to matters now…" He left the words unsaid as he turned back to his weak father, his eyes deadlier and by far sharper than the steel he wielded.

He wanted to savor the moment, to see the last hint of life in the knave he once called Papa. He hungered to hear Rumpel's incoherent screams of agony and the sound of metal ramming through flesh and scraping against bone to balm his dark soul and the rage burning in a inferno amdist what was left of his soul.

Once more he nearly brought his blade down to end his hated sire's existence when something crashed against his body and exploded into a thousand jagged shards. A wayward chip of pottery whizzed dangerously close to Bae's eyes cutting a small slash in his cheek that dribbled a vibrant, glossed crimson.

A hiss of agony flew past his lips as he turned to face Belle who now had another priceless vase griped menacingly in her hand challengingly. Her bright azure eyes glinted flecks of flame and anger towards the man that would harm her Rum.

"Perhaps you can't be saved after all." Bae growled, taking a step towards her, his eyes dancing in murderous delight; crazed by the object of his vast hatred so close at hand.

Using her last bit of willpower, the beauty frantically scanned, searched, and pleaded for the faintest hint of magic to sew havoc upon her foe that murderously lumbered towards her.

Rum was just blundering to his feet, lungs wheezing piteously, his body still doubled over with pain in no way capable to reach the knight in time.

Magic, any price, even for just a spattering of it. There had to be something the evil wanted. Almost immediately she felt he darkness forcefully pushed a bit of magic her way to break through the fluxing. It didn't state a price, but then again, the beauty would have done anything to have a bit of power at her beck.

Striking out her hand, the Dark One could only hope whatever came out was useful and wouldn't on the off chance slay them all in some horrible demise. While she had a small trifle of magic to wield, it was still unpredictable.

A surprised cry of alarm sailed from the knight as what was formerly in front of him a pregnant woman became a mire of wretched, swirling darkness that culminated thickly around him in a shroud of impenetrable mists. The air turned thick with smog and became black as night as he fumbled around through an orb of blackness blindly.

It wasn't much, and wouldn't last, Belle knew expertly, but it would do for the moment. It had to. "Run, Rum!" She cried in alarm as she began to turn to the steps that led to her potion room.

Even as she spoke the ebony orb was already fading away due to its weakness and battling magic's from Merlin's wards and spells.

Mistress and servant flew up a flight of stone stairs, but not before Bae could make out which way they had taken. Even as he swam through the darkness he plowed onward to the door leading to the stairwell, far too determined to be halted by such a weak spell.

"My magic won't keep forever, and it's weak as it is." Belle stated, her voice echoing ominously around the stone encasement as they scaled the winding stairs at a break neck pace.

The guttering torchlight whipped and dipped upon the mildewed air in fiery cavorting as they raced up the stone in a dangerous flurry. Rum stole a desperate glance behind his shoulder, just in time to see the faintest shimmer of light dancing upon gilt silver armor. Bae was getting closer.

Forcing himself to a faster pace, the timid spinner willed his tone to steady and not tremor in fear of a fate cut short. "Do you have any potions to help us?"

"My potions all have a trifling bit of magic imbued into them! Unless we get that buffoon to drink one they won't do much good." Bellowed Belle in reply as they burst into the potion room.

The entire former tower room was alit in multi-hued tints of the vibrant colors all meshing in dizzying patterned from the ever glowing torches guttering in their sconces. Reds and blues and orange and green of all spectrums cascaded upon the floor in their colorful patterns of oblique light radiating from their crystal vials.

Immediately, Rum slammed the thick door shut and began barricading it with what whatever was on hand and heavy. Desperation fueled his strength and will to live like all those years as a beggar trudging across the realm with a horribly mangled limb.

"There has to be something!" Rum cried in a grunt as he propped another chair under the bronze latch. It couldn't end this way with everything finally going right only to be slain by his revenge crazed son!

Belle's mind combed the layout of the stone room frantically, her eyes trying to pin point anything that might give them a change and override any spells Merlin might have bestowed upon the knight errant.

Merlin was an aged wizard, with no means paltry spells at his finger tips. His gnarled hands had woven magic at a very young age, and his gangly, hunched body brimmed with power. If there hadn't been a Dark One he would have been the most powerful magician in all the known realms.

She nearly let out a cry of true fear, the thoughts of demise clamping about her heart and turning her mind to panicked mush, when the object of their safety dawned upon her in a frightening clarity. "We have a chance." She whispered, the well spring of hope filling inside her to near bursting.

Racing to a heavy chest in the back of the potion laden shelves, the beauty flipped opened the top and dug through frantically. It had to be there, it had to work!

The clanking of the murderous knight's armor was ringing clear and clearer like the noise a prisoner hears before he knows the hour of his execution is at hand. It drummed in her ear in a sonorous tempo that filled the corners of her mind, attempting to shake her resolve and herd her into a corner to curl up and quake in tremulous terror of her rapidly approaching doom.

"Belle he's nearly upon us!" Rum yelled warningly. His fists were balled as he stood a little ways away from the make-do barricade, determined to make one last stand against Bae in hopes Belle would have means of escape if her shot in the dark plan did not come to fruition.

The words had not sooner fell from his mouth before the door shook upon its rusted hinges, heaved inwardly as though it inhaled a dying breath, and exploded in another flurry of splinters and ash and cinders.

Bae stomped in slowly over the debris of the door, his face cool and calm, but with fire flickering behind his brown orbs and simmering under his features. "It's over, beast. There are no more exits, no more tricks. You and your little trollop die here and now." He assured them coldly, his steps ever pressing towards them.

There was no escape, no words to be said. The hour of his vengeance was at hand, and only when he felt his father's blood under his finger nails and splashed in the gummy puddle of his dark essence would his fire finally be doused and soul purged of hate.

"Spare Belle." Rum pleaded suddenly, his voice choked thick with desperation. His hands clasped together in begging, face contorted with fear and grief. "Please. It's me you want to slay. She is innocent in all of this. Is there no more heart left in you?"

At that, Bae paused as though his father had dealt a physical blow to his jaw. The knight staggered back, startled by the words. For a moment his eyes shadowed back to the old, Baelfire who had loved his Papa and had understood, before clouding over by rage and bitterness that was rooted too deep into his soul to be banished by a desperate word for mercy.

"Your courage, while commendable, is a little too late." He growled hatefully, bringing his blade down in a slanting slash meant to cut the cords in his father's scrawny neck.

"Rum, move!" Belle cried suddenly just as the blade glanced over the spinners flesh and slashed through his jerkin.

The timid slave lurched to his left throwing himself face down upon the floor, oblivious of the small slice that ripped through this tunic to stain a bit of blood upon the indigo fibers.

Turning his head towards his mistress, he only had enough time to see her standing up with a piece of yellowed parchment in her hand that pulsed a fiery purple tint. The same parchment that had been on the table that night long ago when he had held her in the throes of her remeniscent nightmares.

A split second later blinding amethyst magic blared from her outstretched palm to beam towards the knight in one tremendous blow.

Any magic's Merlin had endowed upon him evaporated into nothingness and the lilac hued darkness seized him in hungry gripping claws to tear away any remaining barriers.

Bae dropped his blade on instinct, its ominous clatter ringing raucously through the air as he attempted to tear away from the claws, but they held him in their greedy vices, inch by inch digging into him. He tried to swat at the mists, but they restrained him fast, their talons piercing him and then becoming intangible along with his skin that was vapidly becoming pale and translucent.

His breath grew rapid in fear as terror seized him in its icy grip. "What happening?" The knight errant screamed to Belle, his voice caught in fear though sounding far away and vague.

The disturbing beauty lips curled in a victorious evil smirk as she waved towards the fading knight mockingly. "Enjoy your trip."

Even as the words left her soft mouth, the knight disappeared in clouds of smoky lavender and a spine tingling scream that echoed frighteningly throughout the potion room as the last remaining remnants of Baelfire.

Stumbling to his feet, the former spinner breathed a sigh of mournful relief as he gazed at the place his son once stood. It hadn't had to be that way if only he had talked with his father. "What did you do to him, mistress?" He queried forlornly.

"Regina's curse." Belle informed him in huge breath. Her body inhaled sharp, intakes of air as she forced her trembling to steady.

Lifting the still faintly glowing parchment up, she re rolled it and slid it back neatly into a silver scroll case. "The magic already imbued upon it was vast enough to override anything Merlin could conjure and since it was an extreme amount, all I did was pull a bit away from it to use as it was intended by teleporting our knight somewhere far, far away."

Even at the mention of Regina and the magical scroll, Belle had to flinch. The harpy would most assuredly sense her magic's had been used and come caterwauling back in a few days for her curse which she would know without one spec of doubt was finished.

To be perfectly honest with herself the sordid beauty wasn't exactly certain she wanted Regina to posses such terrifies power anymore. At first she hadn't cared a wit. It was all more fun for the crazed and devious Dark One, but now…

An eased sigh smoothed past the spinner dry lips as his shoulders relaxed from their anxious strain. In some way he was glad, Bae hadn't been destroyed or transformed into anything ghastly. He was miles or realms away without a way to reach them again, perhaps to ponder over his actions and find forgiveness and a change of heart.

"At least the worst is over." He offered a half hearted chuckle and ran his fingers through his dirty brown tresses.

"I'm afraid not." Belle retorted gently, but there was no mistaking the querulous awe and fear suddenly tinged in her voice.

Turning sharply to face his mistress, Rum expected in horror to see blood from a wound or some secret spell cast upon her. Instead he found her ashen as the layered snow outside with a trembling hand upon her belly. She looked down to her engorged girth, and then slowly up Rum in a terror he hadn't seen even when Bae had been pursuing them.

Dabbing her dry lips with an even dryer tongue she slowly nodded to the realization, before speaking the words that plagued their minds. "My water just broke. The baby is coming."


	19. Delivery

_A/N: I'm back y'all! I hoped you haven't missed me too much! XD. Anyway, thanks for reading and for the stellar reviews, they're all so lovely. Hugs for all!_

**~8~8~**

"Now? T-the babe's c-coming now!" Rum stammered dumbly in abject disbelief. His maple orbs seemingly widened larger than new moons in startling, agape surprise at the small puddle of clear glossy fluid seeping into the cracks of coarse stone at Belle feet and tapering down her leg in fat droplets.

The magic had required a price, for its little spattering of darkness it had allowed to break through the flux of powers to ward of the murder crazed knight. Belle knew without a doubt such a price was a steep debt in which she was bidden by the laws of magic to pay at any time it chose. However she herself was shocked at the so sudden greedy, claw beckoning for her to pay up.

The darkness prowling in her wanted the child to be cast away from the womb as soon as possible. It wanted its host back, fully and completely without some brat wallowing in her any longer to thwart and dampen her powers against the vice grip that held her enthralled in its cruel clutches.

Her breath quickened in sharp inhales of the musty, dust filled air as the beauty clutched at her belly in her delicate grip. Oblique hues of the vibrant potions sparkling about the room in their myriad of colors danced across her cringing, pain ridden features.

Another bout of labor pain stabbed her body in testament that her words rang true. The baby was on its way. "Of course now!" She exclaimed raggedly through a weakened breath that blustered from her quivering, crimson lips.

The sordid beauty's knees buckled forward slightly as a soft cry of pain tore limply from her throat. Rum dutifully raced to her side and supported her from crashing to the floor in a pain induced heap; his body shaking, yet strong to steady his incorrigible mistress and keep her standing upon her own two feet.

Warmth emanated from his sweat and adrenaline soaked body in an assuring radiance that made Belle want to tumble fully into him and place her black heart in his hands for safe keeping and protect all her soul from hurt and harm. She leaned close into him, feeling his racing pulse against her ruby flared cheek, and enveloping herself in his assuring grip and siphoning his strength as her own with the knowledge that he was there to help her when no one else would have.

"Let's hurry to your chambers before you can't be moved." The timid Rum stated in a voice that choked back panic foully bubbling and roiling in a tempest amidst his churning belly.

Belle in such a dire situation had been a fear that plagued him since he learned of the child's unexpected conception. He had often pondered the ramifications of what would become of them if the child came at the most inopportune time where they remained helpless and alone. Now it seemed as those his worst fear was rearing into the light in all its unwanted, menacing glory to loom over their helplessness.

Step by slow step the pair traversed the dimly let spiral stairs case as fast as Rum dare ferry his pregnant captor. The stoic walls of dappled, cold gray stone eerily echoed her screeches of pain as the labor clutched her in its ancient grasp; expertly ministering the sharp slashes of torment assailing her weak form before the child could be brought into the world.

"Deep breaths, Mistress." Rum echoed in his new mantra as he all but kicked open the door to her chambers in excitement fueled frenzy. The relief of cool air seeping from the drafty room and easing their scorching bodies whispered about them in a soothing caress of chill intangible fingers plying across their sweat slicked flesh as though tugging them towards the oval contoured, lavishly adornded bed.

In a few strong foot falls he aided her to the plush mattress they had shared those nights she found herself lonely and in want of human companionship and the feel of hot flesh pressed against her own.

He could only half contemplate had he gotten her with child one of those night in the throes of disgusting passion or had it happened later when he had warmed to her offerings of rare soft smiles that were not so beastly and the gentle touch of her delicate hand against his body that was certainly not as frigid as it had once been the case.

Gritting her teeth stubbornly, Belle screwed her azure orbs shut and fought back another horrendous cry of misery with a dangerous tilt of her head which revealed the elegant curve of her sweat pricked neck to the guttering torch flames cavorting in their sconces.

The child seemed to be raiding her insides for some sort of night to remember as the last memory of dwelling in the Dark One's body, or perhaps it was the darkness intensifying the pain to a crescendo of torment; taking its pleasure from her blood chilling shrieks and gasps.

The spinners hand trembled in an insipid anxiousness while he laid her gently upon the richly embroidered ochre quilts and goose down mattress. Any amount of energy he had once possessed was drained from his narrow escape from Bae. Adrenaline laid barren as the trees outside, and strength faltered into sapped and waned remnants from his limbs in all but the torturous task of keeping him from lurching and swaying upon his feet like a tree shaken by the wind.

His heart thumped raggedly in his chest cavity while his muscles protested every move he dared make. Yet still, his unborn child and mistress needed his aid no matter how beaten his body assured him in fatigued whispers it was.

A heavy sigh flew from between his dry lips as he leaned against one of the mahogany, vine carved bed posts to summon the dredges of his ever failing stamina. "Was there a plan to be wrought into action, Mistress?" He queried tiredly, attempting to steady his hearts tenuous drumming.

"Oh course there was, you daft serf!" Belle snapped with a ferocious anger akin to a wounded rabid dog, baring its fangs at all those who dared come near.

Pain coursed through her engorged belly in a writhing stem of agony, making the disturbing beauty arch her back until it seemed akin to some odd acrobatic trick fair tumblers preformed instead of clawing torment.

Her hands wrenched the fibers of the silken sky blue sheets on either side of her body, twisting and spinning the thin fabric in her iron grip as though she would rip out tufts of the fine bed raiment and claw them to tattered bits. Sweat began to bead her deeply wrinkled brow and brook down her temple as she fought back another scream though clenched lips.

After it passed back into a dulled, throbbing pang, the beauty fell back limply to the rich mattress and caught what little breath she could before snarling savagely back at her slave. "When I felt the first pangs I planned to spirit away a midwife and force her to bring this brat into the realms. Magic was the means of doing such, but since your spawn is prohibiting the power, it's all but hopeless." She paused again abruptly, hissing in a gulp of air and fighting down another pang with her vast, century's old tenacity barricading the torment stalwartly in her form.

If the wretched knight hadn't appeared, ready and eager to murder them, she would have ordered Rum to make a trek through the haunted glades to fetch a midwife from the nearest village, but Brimstone was heaven knew where and time had run its course! "There's no other recourse. You must deliver the babe, while my magic is dampened and useless. I'll attempt to guide you through the steps, but it will be a long, difficult road."

Her magic, useless? The words rang in the spinner head like the echoing chime of an abbey bell fading into contemplative quiet. Belle was powerless, he suddenly realized with a frighten clarity. Her magic had waned and fluttered away, leaving her alone and helpless and bereft of his crazed mistress' darkness honed skills.

Despite his constant fear of her, he could walk away from the Dark Castle now if he so chose. Away from slavery and this life of terror from an insane mistress, who could nary even lift a finger to halt him while in the throes of such child bearing pains.

He could even snatch a blade from her copious collection of odds and ends and strange curios and run the steel through her palpating heart to rid the world of her as his son had been wont to do.

The dangerous, yet vulnerable fiend's misty blue eyes trailed her slave's as though she could read the thoughts brimming behind his kind and startled coffee colored orbs. She was at his mercy and knew it as well as he did; perhaps more so, for he was not the one writhing upon sweat stained sheets and utterly beseeching the waning dusk and the firmament above for the agony to slip away.

Turning her head away in hopes to fight back a flood of hot, desperate tears welling behind her cerulean depths, Belle bit her bottom lip until she could taste the vile, hot iron tang of her blood burst upon her tongue.

She refused to beg him not to abandon her, even though the words of pleading and fright nearly escaped her blood sprinkled mouth. A Part of her knew she deserved no such mercy in any circumstance. But the sheer temptation of threatening or piteously begging him to stay was a coaxing one that prodded her instincts almost into a blind craze of survival.

Rum stared in dumb awe at her for a moment, his mind combing over what he could do with a giddy sensation of new found freedom. But what of his little child, still trapped in the womb of his mistress and pressing to be released from its cramp confines of her flesh?

Leaving would have been simple, easy, the best route. Yet…

A grim glint of determination flashed across his warm maple eyes as he took one of her hands in his own. His grip was strong, and faltered not when she dug her nails into his skin, leaving bruises and marks of her clutches. "Tell me what to do."

For a moment Belle could scarcely believe the words uttered from his lips. Curses, gloating at her despicable condition or oaths of hate she could understand, but to near her instead of running as fast as he could from the confines of the Dark Castle or trying to find a suitable weapon to attempt to slay her rocked her very foundation.

"Rum." His name blurted from her lips in a wave of gratefulness mingled with relief and lashes of pain. Against all logic, all odds he cast his lot with her.

No, not for her, she scolded herself inwardly with a spiteful curse aimed at her weakness. The child, he wanted his little brat, never the monster that held him captive.

Rallying her courage, the beauty offered her slave a steady smile that was more genuine than any grin every donned upon her carnelian lips in centuries. Another shock of pain buffeted her but she managed to suffer through in her indefatigable strength. "We need hot water, some extra blankets and some cloth. This baby wants to get out very soon."

"Water, blankets, cloth." Rum repeated dutifully. Now given some form of purpose the former cripple raced away down the stairs and dimly lit corridors at a frantic pace to garner her needs.

As he descended the last flight of stone and burst into the main hall, the once mendicant halted abruptly to stare at the iron banded double doors that led to freedom, life, hope. He could have slunk off quietly in the graying afternoon of winter and weaseled his way some where the Dark One would hopefully never find him or not bother to drag him back to her sanctuary.

He very nearly took a step where the dark threshold stood almost coaxing him to the shadowing world beyond the looming citadel of terror, and then paused; his face skewed with determination mingled with vast indecision gouged upon his knit brow. No, he would not be a coward again. There was a child soon to be brought into the realms. His child and he would do it right this time no matter what would come.

~8~8~

Eight hours. Nearly eight hours had waned and still Belle remained caught in the throes of labor. The sun had long ago set in its loft to the westerns skies, leaving a grinning moon and its children of bejeweled dots of silvery light dancing about the dark heavens to reign upon the silent world of crisp white. Blankets of freshly fallen snow lay in undisturbed drifts and dunes while the whole world seemed to hold its baited breath and wait upon the delivery of the child in the Dark One.

Hot tears streamed down the dark ruddy parlor of the devious fiend. Wayward strands of mulled, amber honey hair gummed to her sweat and water stained forehead as she writhed and squirmed upon the bed like a bug caught futilely upon its back. Every so often a thunderous blow of pain would assail her, making her shriek in a wail that echoed menacingly about the stoic walls.

"Just keep taking large deep breaths." Rum ordered weakly as he mopped her brow with a rag of cool water.

If the former spinner had been fatigued before the labor he was in abject exhaustion now. Eight hours of running for every small detail and jumping into action had worn what little resolve still remained.

Every hour had corroded his will, every second another speck of his determination washed into nothingness like the sea taking a handful of sand and pulling it away only his strength did not number so many flaxen grains upon the shores.

His dark brown eyes fluttered more and more, his limbs hesitating and pausing. Even once he found himself nearly asleep on his feet. Now he felt the tug of slumber pulling at his consciousness, lulling him into the realm of peaceful, and dreamless repose once more.

His head dipped, his body lurched forward, and breathing slowing to a lazy ease.

Another piercing shriek jolted him awake like a splash of cold water doused about his naked form and making his nerves go rigid in alarm.

"The baby!" Belle cried loud enough to echo about the room in a tremendous scream. She managed to prop herself up on her elbows, her eye pinched tight in a closed vice. "It's nearly here!"

Rum's heart quickened to a faster, frantic tattoo as he jerked around to the lower half of her body and the opening for the child. His face reddened in surprise and excitement to see the small head nearly fringing out.

"This is it, Belle!" The spinner yelled to match his mistress' own screaming pitch for pitch. "Push!" He demanded frantically.

The going was slow at first, torturously slow, as though the world were moving at a snails pace in dead winter. Time oozed along in its flow or seemingly froze altogether like the brooklets and streams meandering upon the estate grounds.

A determined cry erupted from Belle's lips in the final stage. The tendons upon her neck bulged from her slick skin like steel cords in the exertion and force she summoned with the last bit of strength the very fibers of her body possessed. Every muscles tensed to its limit, ready to snap in one fluid motion should the need arise.

More, more, a little more, the beauty whispered desperately to herself, her whole form on the verge of snapping like a rope stretched too tightly with its fibers unwinding. For a moment a seemed as those sheer will and strength wouldn't be enough. As though nothing would ever be enough to expunge the tiny thing from inside.

And then, cries, neither of the slave nor the mistress pierced the heated air in deafening exhalation of weeping and healthy sobs. Tiny lungs wailed in raucous cries as bloody fists pounded at the air and the new, frightening, bright world the tiny figure had been thrust so abruptly into.

Belle's body shivered once then fell back limp upon the sweat soaked sheets, her breath sputtering at the exertion of forcing the babe out of her body. At her other end, she could feel Rum fumbling around and cutting the cord that tethered her to the babe and swaddling, the blood smeared, tiny shrieking figure in a spare bit of cloth left over from his pillaging of blankets.

A strange murmur echoed from Rum who couldn't help but smile as he nestled the child comfortably in his lanky arms. Her fluid and blood matted fuzz swathed upon her head was dirty brown like his, her whole tiny pinkish body pulsed with life, and her small eyes that momentarily opened to a strange new life only to squeeze shut again at the illuminate world sat akin to twin sparkling sapphires with stars faceted into their oblique prisms.

Her azure depths were so startlingly akin to her mothers and yet different. They were not the eyes of a normal human; even Rum could instinctively tell that; magic glittered in her cerulean orbs, but such facts mattered not at the moment with his baby girl tucked in his arms.

Making sure the babe was secure, the proud Papa padded delicately towards Belle to display their child to its exhausted mother.

In that moment Belle could have accepted the child she had brought into the realms. She could have laid the babe on her chest and held it close to her pattering heart, and whispered sweet words of promise to her child. She could have stroked its tiny head and taken its fears of the frightening world away and let it snuggle into slumber in the crook of her arm.

She could have, but in those few tiny steps that would shatter the distance between mistress and slave eternally, her nerve whispered away as ash upon a zephyr.

"Mistress it's a girl. She-" He paused as Belle raised a weak but commanding hand up to halt him.

"Don't bring that thing any closer." She snarled dangerously with as much threat she could muster in her weakened state. Already she could feel her magic flooding back into her grip, but the power used to bring the child in the world left her weaker than the shrieking babe itself.

A pained expression loomed over Rum's scruffy features as he dared another intrepid step. "But mistress, she's your child." He protested wearily. Surely she must have an inkling of feeling for the babe she had just courageously brought into the worlds. Did she possess any love at all for the tiny bundle?

"How many times must we go through with this?" The sordid Dark One cried, nearly on the verge of tears brimming in her heated indigo, lusterless eyes again.

When would he understand the darkness was full and controlling in every aspect of her existence? That there was no room for love or caring or any other such nonsense that would loosen her grip on magic. "I want no part of the child's life! I do not even desire to look at it at present. If you wish to keep the child and not have me throw it out in the snow I suggest you dare not inch another step towards me. From this point forward, consider the brat in the same position as you. A prisoner, a slave, a piece of property; nothing more."

Flourishing her wet, spell clever fingers through the air, the beauty used the last of her returning magic to summon a few items in Rum chambers. "There are few tools to help you feed and care for the squalling brat. Now allow me to rest, or by the darkness itself you will regret it."

Rum stood stock still for a tenuous moment, nearly making Belle wonder would he disregarded her orders. Surly he knew it would be folly to let her warning go unheeded. Another strained moment passed before the former spinner sighed in defeat and sorrow, his scrawny shoulders slumping like a beaten dog finally driven off from a pursuit.

"Where I come from the tradition is that a mother names her child. You don't have to be a part of her life, but will you at least give her a name." He asked in melancholic tones, his voice laced thickly with distraught hope slain by her stony front towards her own flesh.

The child needed something from her mother even though she would more than likely never fully realize who her matron was.

"Name it." The Dark One scoffed lasciviously at the ludicrous appeal. Belle, more than anyone else in all the realms, knew what kind of power went into names; their very make-up of who they were wrapped up in a fitting moniker. Is that what her Rum sought, some sort of blessing for his mewling, squirmy brat?

Angrily Belle swiveled her head to the open window, hot rage dancing in her cobalt orbs. The gray light of morning was just beginning to rise about the shadowed treetops. Swaths of stark crimson and pallid lavender smeared gorgeously across the drab ash tinted sky to greet the snowy day in all its frigid glory.

Upon the snow caked window sill a brown wren, still caught half in the world of dark and brimming light hopped upon the sheets of ice and flakes. It turned and quirked its head towards the slowly illuminating sky before pecking tartly at the snow and fluffing its feathers out in a puff to make it look akin to a small feather ball of soft down before smoothing again to fit its sleek frame.

Even by its presence, the sordid beauty could tell father winters grip was begin to slip. The earth was ever so faintly beginning to rustle from its long, cold slumber and awaken. Spring was waxing closer and closer upon the coffins of ice and dungeon of bareness. The time of life and rebirth and change, which was about to awaken to battle the harsh cold and death and cruelty, loomed fastidiously on the warming ruby tinged horizon like the first tassels of a war banner creeping into view.

"Wren. Name her Wren." Belle stated suddenly, her voice mild and tired as though it took the last vestiges of strength she had to speak the name.

Rum paused his desolate, defeated trek from taking leave of her room, his head turned back, but his mistress wasn't looking upon him or the babe. Her eyes were already closed, her chest moving up and down in the soft rhythm of slumber.

Even though she protested any contact with the child, she seemed at peace and content. Rum looked down towards his napping, but quickly hungering, daughter. Her serene face and button nose tranquil in her own slumbering repose. Being born was quite a tiring adventure to mother and babe alike after all. She slept peacefully like her mother, save she was lost in a world where dreams were new and exciting and filled with joy and promise and innocence.

He smiled fondly at his new child then regretfully at his sleeping mistress. Would she surly deny her own daughter? "Wren she shall be called." He whispered solemnly in a soft tone of assurance, and then tiptoed out with his little girl sleeping soundly in his arms.


	20. Deals

_A/N: Thanks for taking the time to read, and all the nice reviews!_

**~8~8~**

It was late in the night when Regina first felt the tingling of magic. She lay under silken quilts of onyx curled into the last remnants of warmth left by her huntsman before she had ordered him away.

The feeling had been an odd one, a beguiling sensation creeping along her bare flesh and wrapping about her form in a cocoon of power. Goosebumps prickled against her skin at the feral caress. True, it was only the faintest of brushing against her senses, but she instantly discerned what sort of power whispered against her.

A breathless gasp erupted from her throat, as the dark queen snapped up quickly in bed to snatch the last bit of the lurid feelings calling to her. Something powerful, a curse, her curse had just been activated to some extent.

Even though it was pitch black, a grimace clearly marbled upon Regina's pallid features as she snarled savagely. A fist slammed into the firm mattress, and a foul profanity spat past her lips.

"That sadistic little liar." She seethed angrily, tossing the light coverlet from over her sensuous figure.

Forgoing a robe or even the thin sheet lying halfway off the pedestal bed to cover her form, the vile monarch stomped to the balcony. Her quick mind and body fevered with rage and a greedy lust for vengeance.

The crisp night air was more than enough to chill her heated flesh as she lurked in the shadow of her quarter's balconied terrace to gaze at the land beyond the queen's woods and below her looming fortress.

Her kingdom lay in a dark sullenness under a molesting blanket of oily black smoke rising from the furnaces and guardsmen braziers below in the ragged, pauper ridden city festering under the heel and shadow of Regina.

She paid no heed to the misery wallowing in the shade of her palace, but stared hatefully at the eastern expanse of tranquil night and land where Belle made her home.

"You will pay dearly for this deception, old friend." She warned in an oddly calm yet frigid timbre which felt colder than the swirling air about her.

Her head slowly turned from the hazy direction of the famed Dark Castle and towards the jagged mountains peaks rising from the west, looking akin to rows of ugly teeth with caps of white. Whatever Belle had done with the paltry inkling of the curses power had been teleported somewhere else, but not truly from their realms.

Tendrils of her onyx hair swayed lazily across her cunning features in a sudden gust of dying winters frigid breath as a small smirk pinioned upon her face. The Dark One, whether she knew or no, had left a strand of magic undone. Whatever she had banished, or spirited away had landed in the marsh lands to the west.

~8~8~

The marsh land of the western realms was a desolate region of swampy terrain. Its lords and lady's were the misquotes and dragonflies in their citadel of murky water between the reeds and cattails and gray moss hanging like mourners shrouds from the dipped weeping willows.

Sun was an enemy; never welcome to grace the stagnant foul waters or the dangers lurking above and beneath the scum foamed currents.

Toads croaked boisterously in tandem with the chirping and buzzing of cicadas and the zipping sound of countless, iridescent wings darting through the muggy marsh air; daring their lives to the ravenous fish prowling the murky deeps.

All was mostly quiet in the land of shaded willows and bug swarmed air, before magic pulsed through the humid atmosphere like a fresh breeze and glowed with a brilliance akin to swamp lights playing through the tangled branches of Crepe Myrtle. Crimson and purple strands of light floated twixt the boughs of the gloomy trees, before radiance exploded upon the dense mud land, sending lackadaisical toads and all manner of insect life zipping away and _kerplunking _into the dirty waters for safety.

A sharp holler of alarm and terror rang across the dank morass as a human clad in glistening plate splashed into the murky waters.

Baelfire sputtered and gulped for air as he floundered in the mire. He breathed the now rank water while snatching huge gulps of life giving, humid air.

He had almost had him, he thought while both trying to breathe and spit out marsh scum. He had almost run his father through, then that girl…no, he reprimanded himself quickly, that _beast _had worked some sort of magic.

Crawling unceremoniously to the flaccid weed ridden banks; gripping for some sort of sturdy hold, Bae snarled fiercely in frustration as he wiped away the gunk blinding his eyes and coating his armor.

"That witch! I knew I should have run her through when I had the chance! How could I have ever assumed that mongrel I once called sire would have had the nerve to become or slay the Dark One!" The furious knight raged.

"How indeed?" A sly, feminine voice asked suddenly. One could almost hear the smirk etched upon her face.

Leaping in a slimly coated mess to his feet, Baelfire snarled defensively at the sound of the cunning tone. His, gray plated, now grime caked fist swung out wildly in attack. "Another one of you foul conjurers!" He roared. "You'd prefer twiddling your fingers and muttering a few phrases of nonsense rather than winning your battles with steel and strength!"

A huff of amusement leeched from Regina's satin, black clad frame as she watched the mire messed knight punch his fists at flitting gnats and puffy ends of cattails.

Despite being coated in green and brown filth, he did have a resemblance to some one she had seen before. A certain slave with shaggy, dirty brown hair and mud hued eyes.

After the magic she had felt, and where it had hailed, there was no question who was his sire.

"Enough!" The dark queen ordered suddenly, her singular word final and commanding.

Waving her fingers through the air, she banished the disorientation of the warrior so that he wouldn't plunge back into the swamp her magic had help pull his plate bound body from.

Though he didn't know it, if it hadn't been for her 'twiddling fingers' as he so grossly put it, he would have sunk like a flailing rock.

Staggering slightly Baelfire stared intently at his rescuer, taking in her darkly attired figure tactically.

Regina allowed a slight upturn of her blood red lips as she demurely pumped a black fan to ward off curious insects and the sweltering heat. "You've been at the Dark Castle. A dangerous haven to say the least." She stated matter-of-factly.

Bae tensed, his chocolate orbs narrowing. "How did you…"

"I make it my business to know what Belle is up to or where she chooses to cavort and ramble. One should always know where a wolf is prowling." Regina interrupted sagely.

The drenched knight, still dripping gunk and green scum from his impromptu dip, glared that much harder. "Why do you need to know? Who are you?"

The evil sorceress gave a small chuckle, taking a step nearer to the mistrusting Baelfire. "Who I am is not important, and furthermore my dear boy, I think we both can aid one another."

It was Bae's turn to laugh then, a small mirthless bark, more akin to a growl, as he wiped a thick glob of sludge from his mop of brown locks. "Huh, unless you can give me Rumpelstiltskin's head on a pike, then I shan't aid you in any plot. Revenge is the thing I crave, it taunts me and starves me and tempts me with the sweet promise of vengeance and yet I am denied my greatest desire."

"I can give you better than that, knight." Regina coerced temptingly. A vile grin bloomed involuntarily upon her crimson painted lips at the talk of revenge. "I'll give you his heart still beating in your hand while he watches you crush it to pulp. You will dance to the song of his screams and bath in his blood."

If that didn't sweeten the bargain she had in mind, nothing would! She knew the savory taste of vengance better than most; the sweet nectar of revenge, and what some would do to obtain merly a drop of that potent elixir.

"Why should I trust you?" His brow knit curiously, eyes gauging. There was no reason to trust a woman newly appeared, after all he had gone through. He knew nothing of her.

The evil enchantress heaved her shoulders nonchalantly, a gloved hand swatting away a rather large beetle. "You shouldn't. But it is an alliance of convenience. It just so happens that two people we utterly loathe dwell in the same citadel." She smiled her honeyed poisoned smile. " You have my word I'll assuage your burning desire for revenge, sir knight."

"And in return?" Bae inquired.

A single finger slipped under the knight, bearded jaw, lifting his head up to meet Regina's own teal tinted orbs flecked with fire. Her lush ruby glossed mouth moved almost as sultry as her body. "All I want is my curse, and to see Belle brought low."

Baelfire gazed intently upon her for long minuets, judging and weighing her in his spiraling thoughts before a malicious grin crept upon his scum smeared face.

He should have known such was too good to be true. He should have seen the betrayal sparking behind her eyes, and the lie smoothing from her tongue. But the thirst for revenge blinded him to the backstabbing deceit.

Proffering his slimy grip out, Regina shook it heartily. "The deal is struck then." He announced, feeling magic mingled with malice spark through him like a shock.

"Indeed it is." The crafty witch agreed sinisterly. "Indeed it is…"

The pact was final, if the Dark One still refused to give her the curse, of course. If Belle did in fact hand over the powerful contract of magic, then Regina had the utmost faith she could easily dispose of the revenge driven knight.

~8~8~

"And here I thought we were such good friends, my dear." Regina stated in mock hurt to her nemesis. They sat in the main hall, a platter of finger sweets and tea a twixt them as they spoke in amiable tones. "You lied to me, Belle."

The clink of an ornate silver spoon hitting the rim of her cup was the only noise that could be heard for some time as Belle tended to her tea. She knew a meeting had been long overdue; since she had unleashed some magic of the curse. Now, the black storm that was Regina was without a doubt barreling down upon her with wicked grins and depictive friendliness.

In fact all those who controlled a vast deal of magic must have felt the tingling of such power playing amidst the winds that night Belle had enacted a part. Even now she reasoned the forces of light and good were beginning to prepare for the curse they believed was on its way.

"Lie? Regina darling that it such a harsh word. I prefer fibbing for a few reasonable purposes." Belle countered sweetly; licking her spoon in an innocent manner.

A curled hand, slammed into the table between the enemies, causing cutlery to rattle. The evil sorceress turquoise blazed angrily. "Don't try to sugar coat it. You know how much I've been trying to get at that curse. Why are you keeping it from me? To taunt? To mock?"

Even though the two shared no love loss, Regina had always deepened upon Belle for her potions and elixirs and spell to wreck her own private havoc. Why now was she choosing to veer from their equally beneficial arrangements?

Belle shook her head sagely. "I've concluded that the curse is far too dangerous for one woman alone to wield."

"But why?" Regina pressed her eyes boring into the fiends as she leaned over the table. "You have never cared a wit before. What has changed in you Belle? I can see it in your eyes, there is a glimmer there never was before."

As though her words were some sort of uttered magical incantation, a side door suddenly creaked open, revealing the answer to her burning question on why the Dark One chose to deny her curse and keep it from her hungry clutches.

Her slave, Rum, with a child nestled in the crook of his arms.

For Regina, the missing pieces snapped into place. She understood now the reservation, the hesitation, the new found wariness on Belle's part. It lined up magnificently.

"Mistress, have you seen Wren's blanket I know I must have left it-" His words drabbled to an abrupt halt as the timid spinners head jerked up and he saw whom had arrived unexpectedly inside the main hall.

Had he known what evil lurked amidst the halls of the Dark Castle he would have hidden Wren away in the deep darkest cellar away from those malice flecked eyes.

All sat in dead, palpable silence for what seemed like eternity until hearty peals of laughter sprang from the vile sorceress' throat.

A child! Regina could hardly contain the sordid shuddering heaves of mirth assailing her form. "For that you choose to deny me my curse!" She crowed amusingly. "A brat born of a passionate night between a slave and his mistress! I thought you'd be more careful in keeping a child at bay! Oh it all fits now!"

Her new ally, Baelfire, had certainly mentioned the pregnancy in an off handed comment whilst scheming with Regina, but the sorceress had brushed it off as some nonsense. She never assumed Belle to do somthing such as that.

"That…that is… I mean…you…she…its." Belle's features reddened in humiliation, every word not translating as she desired. Her eyes shot poisoned daggers at Rum as she attempted to pull her pride back into something useable.

"Nevertheless." The Dark One growled forcefully. "The curse is mine and I will not be dealing it away."

Regina had known such from the beginning. Which was why she had bargained with Baelfire. She had only wanted to delve into the sordid beauty's reasoning or insanity. There was no true desire to go to war with Belle, save to see her grovel and keel with pain, she was a powerful ally. And yet now she knew the full explanation or at least one reason for hesitation.

"I couldn't care less at the moment." Regina rebuffed through a series of hearty chuckles. "This is simply perfect. I never pictured you the mommy type, dear. My, what a darling family you three make."

"Get out." Belle snapped; her cerulean eyes blazing, unable to take the jeering, taunting, mirth.

Nodding once, Regina arose with enough composure to steady her jibing laughter. Smoothing out her ebony gown, she smiled mockingly. "I'll show myself out, and don't think we've finished about this whole curse business."

With that she gave one sharp snap of her fingers and disappeared in an oily, black spiral of thick mist.

When her last magic's tingled away into nothingness, Belle growled a dangerous sort of sound, brimming with fury as she turned to face the spinner.

Rum blanched into a paled ivory, knowing his intrusion was a catastrophe. The babe whimpered slightly in his arm as he held it closer to protect from any wrath the mistress might toss at them. "I…I am sorry, I didn't know she was-"

"Some times I seriously wonder." Belle paused a moment, pushing back the chair to pad over to her slave. "Why I didn't throw that brat out in the snow." The thing had been alive for nearly a month and even at an early age it caused her hassle.

Regina would never let her live this down peacefully, of that she was certain. It would always be a snide remark, masked by their so called 'friendly' ribbing and jests.

"You wouldn't." Rum stated not in challenge or horrorstricken disbelief, but simply as a fact. Belle, despite what everyone, even herself, believed had a heart. She was not a remorseless beast the legends spoke.

The fiendish beauty glared chips of ice at the spinner for a moment, before scoffing in disgust and turning away. He was right, which was the worst part. "I'll give it away, then. There are those who desire children and I trade in the little spawns often enough."

"They won't accept her." Protested the timid slave; his voice firm and even as he delved into an argument he knew could end terribly. Yet he had to fight for Wren's safety and keeping. He couldn't keep worrying every night would Belle barter his daughter away. "Magic hums off her, it crackles beneath her flesh and radiates and pulses." He explained.

Belle waved a hand dismissingly before snatching up her cup of tea once more. "They won't know that, whoever the buyer may be. You just feel it because you've been around magic this long." She grimaced behind the rim of her cup as she took a long draught.

"Look at her eyes!" Rum persisted determinedly. He thrust the babe out slightly from his arms towards the beauty.

The tiny bundle squirmed slightly, from sleep, her tiny balled hands stretching and striking out; obvious to the argument over her that was ensuing. "That is no type of normal blue, mistress. It is an azure hue; many say they see the blue fairy as. The brightest sapphire, like your own! If they don't notice the latent magic, they will notice her eyes." He assured her.

A savage snarl wrenched from Belle's throat, her indigo depths flared with fury as she spun back to face her slave. Before Rum could say another words, the beauty backhanded the spinner in a thunderous blow.

He reeled back, stunned by the strike, his cheek stinging and burning and turning into a fiery pallor. Stars swam and dotted in his blurred vision. The dark fiend gripped him by the edge of his coarse tunic pulling him close. "Never compare me to the blue fairy." She growled lowly.

Between them, the baby began to whimper piteously as though feeling the gathering storm of anger buffeting from her mother. She sniffled once, her body instinctively squirming to the warmth and protection of her father.

A tiny wail of fear and crankiness arose, hitting Belle harder than her blow dealt to the spinner. She scrambled away franticly, as though even being near the child had harmed it in some way or it could have been a poisoned adder waiting to strike her.

Eyes wide, she searched the child wondering what action she had caused to make the thing awake with tears.

"Why is she crying; what did I do?" She asked, fear bubbling in her voice.

Rum bounced the child mildly, whispering cooing words to soothe her fear. He turned back to his mistress, his chocolate eyes pitying. "It's alright, she's hungry. Your shouting woke her. There's no need to be afraid, she only a babe."

"I'm not afraid." Belle rebuffed like a petulant child.

Terrified better described what she felt. The tiny bundle seemed so small, so fragile, as though one wrong move could harm it irreparably. And the beauty knew she was not the most delicate of beings.

All in all, however, she knew Rum's words were true. Just by glancing at the babes, tear brimmed eyes, as she squalled to her papa, their sapphire vibrancy would be enough to let even the stupidest peasant know the child was far from ordinary.

No body would take her. Perhaps maybe the fairies, but Belle would rear it as her own before she let that happen. They didn't need another lace wearing, pixie, do-gooder flying about the realms.

"Make sure another episode like this doesn't happen again." The sordid beauty warned suddenly. She refused to have another embarrassment as she had gone through today. "You should be concentrating on your chores anyway instead of lugging the thing around. Which reminds me, don't think having this child means you get to slack off in work. Your amount of chores will not be altered for the brat. "

"S-so you mean you won't give her away?" He queried, relief daring to flit in his tone. Even if it meant harder, longer days at work, he would be jubilant to know Wren was safe from the threat of being taken from his grasp.

Belle shrugged noncommittally. "At present, no. The deal is thus; if you can keep up with your work you may keep her. I will not give her away. But she is yours fully to rear."

The child began to screech louder, telling her want of nourishment. Rum smiled falteringly at his mistress, his scrawny shoulders slumping in abject relief. "Thank you, mistress." He uttered while padding away to feed his daughter.

Belle followed him with her cerulean orbs until he was out of sight to warm milk in the kitchen. After a moment she sunk down, her limbs shaking. She hadn't believed it at first or perhaps hadn't wanted to believe it, but now it was undeniable. The babe had magic. Powerful magic; more than even her Papa knew.

**~8~8~**

_A/N: What? Baelfire isn't in our world yet? No, but trust me I will explain. _


	21. Daughter

_A/N: Thank you guys for reading and reviewing! I've been having a blast with this story._

**~8~8~**

Rumpelstiltskin's life had never been an easy one. He had been born into a life of abject penury as a peasant, then after the war what little the spinner had managed to eke out as a paltry living for his son was snatched away.

Still, for those long, torturous years limping as a destitute coward, wondering how he would survive another day, nothing in his past seemed as hard as tending to a small child and keeping up with a multitude of chores.

Dusting of his mistress' trinkets had to be juggled with feeding Wren. Sweeping regularly interchanged with making certain she was in need of nothing. Burping and changing regulated washing, serving, scrubbing all in some precarious display of balance so that one did not outweigh the other.

It was back breaking to dare say the least!

Belle attempted vainly to stifle a humorous grin blooming upon her lovely features as she stared at her servant. The former cripple slept with his head lying upon the table of the main hall. His hair curtained his scruffy features with a few tendrils of his dirty brown tresses dancing about with each ragged snore. Beneath his head a small puddle of drool wetted his cheek.

"Rum wake up." The Dark One tapped him lightly upon his shoulder.

It had only been a matter of time before the work began to drag him down, she knew such would have to happen sooner of later.

The timid spinner awoke with a startled snort and bleary eyes blinking owlishly in confusion. Shaking his head, Rum sprinted up from his chair, his hands searching vainly for the rag he used to polish the glossy veneer of the table.

Running a hand through his mop of hair, the former cripple stared at his mistress in apologetic helplessness. "Sorry I dozed off." He admitted; a flush firing through his cheeks.

Dozed was putting it mildly, it was more akin to closing his eyes seemingly just for a moment, to awake with his mistress looming over his fatigued figure.

"You should get more rest." Belle observed teasingly.

It was obvious he was exhausted. The late nights of dragging his lanky body back up the stone stairways to fall in an tired heap upon his bed mingled with the early rising to feed Wren and serve his mistress' own meal, was taking its toll upon him; terribly so.

Dark circles rimmed his eyes, and his usual scruffy features appeared more haggard and gaunt since the he had taken up the challenge to juggle his captivity and child rearing.

Rum heaved his shoulders helplessly, a tired downtrodden gesture. "I don't have the time, mistress." He let a blustered sigh fall past his lips in sleep denied frustration. "Wren is down for her nap, and I still need to scrub the library and polish the silver and…"

"Today, I'll let it slide." Belle chuckled fondly. "You need to get some rest, least I discover you asleep once more! You're no good to me dead on your feet."

Rum smiled half heartedly, his chestnut eyes shimmering gratefully, though he still put up a debate. "But what of Wren?"

"That little terror is still your problem, but worry not, I'll alert you if she's crying." The fiendish beauty assured.

"I…" The former cripple began to protest, and then abruptly shut his mouth. It was true; he could barely keep steady upon his feet, much less tend to his chores. And the sweet temptation of slumber was beckoning him into its realm.

"Alright." He finally nodded warily. "But remember I'm right upstairs if she wakes crying."

With that, the timid Rum dully lumbered to the winding stair way leading to his quarters. He paused at the threshold, leaning upon the door for support, before slightly turning his head back towards his mistress.

Belle wouldn't try to let anything happen to the child, but her demeanor for suddenly transforming emotions had never been far gone. One still had to be wary.

As he tramped tiredly up the dank stairwell, his footfalls echoing grimly, the beauty snorted once in irritation concerning his wariness. Swiping a tendril of her brown locks free of her face contorted into an annoyed countenance. "By that look he'd think I was going to eat the brat." She murmured dourly to herself.

Of course she wasn't entirely without her own reasons for sending him to a well earned rest, the beauty reminded herself. She did desire him to get some well earned slumber, but also she reckoned there was need to conqueror her trepidation of the tiny bundle.

Sequestering herself away and scurrying into hiding like a scavenging rat when the thing was around simply would not do. She was mistress of the castle; the babe would not control her!

And, though she was loathe admitting it, her curiosity about her little daughter was piqued to an inferno ever since Rum had struck his point about her eerily blue eyes. Perhaps it was only instinct to know what her spawn fully looked like instead of catching glimpses of her and hearing it more than actually looking at it. Whatever the reason, she had a deep seeded desire to fully force herself to grow accustomed to the child and ponder upon it.

Steeling herself with a steady breath, the beauty padded over to the extravagantly carved, mahogany crib sitting close by.

The bars of the baby bed were expertly crafted to seem like the trunks of trees while the horizontal bars had been carved to resemble boughs heavy in summer bloom. All in all the whole crib looked akin to a coppice of dark trees, which in the center rested the tiny bundle, Wren.

A wood carver had traded it for a few precise, magical tools in which could make anything seem extraordinarily life like. The last she heard, he had carved a boy that the blue fairy had summoned to life.

Belle had always had the useless treasure tucked away and forgotten under blankets of dust, until the day the babe had been born.

The tiny baby rested on a bed of soft wool blankets dyed a gold color that nearly made it seems as though, Wren rested upon a bed of vibrant autumnal leaves.

A startled surprise flashed across Belle's lovely features as she looked over the crib to see Wren. The child wasn't sleeping, but was quiet and squirming slightly upon its back. To the beauty, she almost was reminded of a beetle on it carapace without the strength to flip over and scuttle away.

She very nearly called for Rum, but then again the babe wasn't wailing like a banshee, nor smelling of gracious knew what. No, even for such a young child she seemed tactile and pondering with hints of mischief flecking her startling azure eyes. Heaven help all the realms when this one grew up!

Truth be told, if she could crawl, Belle had the faintest inclination the thing might have managed to escape from her crib. She had wanderlust in her eyes, much like her mother.

A ghost of a grin pecked at the Dark One's full lips, as she circled the cradled bed. Wren's eyes followed her every move; matching her glance for glance.

The child's hair would grow lank like her fathers, but even still she seemed not to have more of less of the other parent. She would be a rather pretty thing when she grew up. One glance at her and the fiend had no doubt; all manner of men would seek her out for her hand in marriage or to woo with foolish nonsense of love.

"You're cute, I'll give you that." Belle admitted to break the intense quiet she felt falling around her contemplation. "But then again you're half of my blood." She chuckled mildly at the after thought.

The babe made a curious little cooing noise as though trying to copy her mother. Her ever grasping hands and feet kicked upward flailing happily in the air at the attention.

A wider grin bloomed across the beauty's features as she dared slip a hand into the crib. She danged her spell clever fingers temptingly in front of Wren's joy lit face in a teasing manner.

The child, much like her matron in the ways of curiosity reached out to grab the twiddling digits and see what they were.

"A curious mite, aren't you?" Belle giggled almost fondly as the babe wrapped her tiny hands around her mother's one finger.

At once, the darkness inside of her growled its disapproval of playing with the brat. She was the Dark One, not some nursemaid or nanny looking after the spawn.

Jerking her hand away on reflex, Belle wiped her fingers on her bright orange, silk blouse as though the child had tainted her in some way.

Immediately the child's happy face, gleeful at the new discovery shattered in a pitiful frown and confusion. Her bottom lips quivered tremulously, those mystical eyes, bristling with newly formed tears.

"Oh please don't cry!" Belle pleaded in whispered panic.

If Rum heard once rattling wail rankling along the drafty air, he would be down in mere moments, and to be honest, Belle didn't want him catching her trying to make friends with Wren.

Perhaps it was motherly instinct breaking through the blackness, or desperation to keep the fortress quiet of sonorous screeches; whatever it was the beauty hauled the tiny child up from the wood crafted crib and into her awaiting arms.

A face once set to shrieking out another bellowing cry melted away back to youthful happiness at the thrill of being picked up and doted on.

Heaving a sigh of relief that another ear rupturing sob had been tactfully avoided, Belle found herself quite at ease with the child in her arms.

The babe was a squirmy, curious, little thing that constantly pawed at the beauty's unblemished, pallid face with her tiny spit coated hands as though mimicking her mothers tease from a few moments before.

Belle could only laugh at Wren's exploration of her face. The child's tubby fists patted her cheeks and dragged flecks of salvia all over her face. Once, her tiny grip grabbed the chestnut haired beauty's nose, making the devious fiend smile fondly at the girl.

"That's my nose." She explained in a sweet, nasally whisper to her daughter. "You have one too."

After releasing her nose, Wren dabbed at her face again, only this time Belle playfully dodged her touch. The beauty laughed softly as she dipped and swerved her head and then nipped playfully at her child's, grubby seeking fingers.

Wren let out a sound akin to a soft, frustrated growl or gurgle, her bottom lip caught between pouting and anger. A spark firing in her azure eyes, nearly made Belle laugh again.

"Hmm, so, little Wren has a temper." Belle remarked, giving up her game of keep away.

There was no mistaking the hardened glint in her indigo eyes, the beauty knew, for it frighteningly mirrored her own. Although she felt pride well within her at the thought, worry also took root. What if she had more of her mothers tendencies?

Despite her eyes, curiosity, and her temper, what else could she have possibly begotten from her mother, the Dark One contemplated? Her cunning, her guile, her wit, her darkness…?

She stared at her heir for long moments, thoughts jumbled and torn and tangled. What if Wren grew evil like her? What if the darkness sought to claim the young innocence? Even though she would never willingly give her powers up, she was loathe to think of the darkness festering inside her the babe.

The child, so precious, so small in a world that meant her harm, simply because of who her mother was, yawned sleepily; suddenly exhausted from their game. Paying no heed to that darkness swarming around her matron, she nuzzled close to her mothers chest, her eye lids dropping as sleep lulled her away.

A strangled cry tore from Belle asphyxiated throat as she hugged the child close. Tears swelled in her eyes and fell upon the crown of her daughters russet hair. "Oh Wren, I fear I'd make a poor mother to you. I am the most powerful woman in all the realms, but at this I am inept in every way. Who wants a mother tainted by the darkest evil?"

No, it was better for Wren if she watched her grow to be a sharp, fearless, strong woman from a far. She would strive to make her happy, but there couldn't be such love as a parent held for their child, not like the kind she had with her papa.

Wren already adored her father. He was kind, and gentle, and strong, while she was…the Dark One, evil and cruel and beastly. She was the fanged, red eyed monster that lurked in the corner of naughty children's dreams and spoke of only in frightened whispers by the most bold and hardiest of men.

No, Wren could never love her, of that, the darkness creeping inside assured her in no uncertain terms.

Yet the same could not be said for the softly weeping beauty.

~8~8~

Rum awoke finally as the last rays of day were retreating across the sky leaving a brilliant display of lilac and pink tinted upon the underbellies of thin clouds scudding along the dusky horizon.

A bear of a yawn, bellowed from his gaping mouth as he listened in satisfaction to the loud popping of his joints while he stretched the last haze of sleep away. For a moment, he felt languid and confused, his mind still mugged with rest before placing the time with the setting sun. He had frittered most of the day away in a dead sleep!

Belle was going to be furious, he thought inwardly as he stumbled from the room in a frantic race. His foot dragged a thin sheet behind, but he managed to do a hop struggling jig and kick it off leaving it a trail of fabric peeping from his door.

Traipsing down the gray, swirling stairs, his ears strained to listen for a spec of sound for good or ill. Wren wasn't crying so late which worried him greatly.

What if Belle's kindness had only been a ruse to spirit the child away in some bargain, so as not to deal with a possessive papa, pleading to keep his child?

How could he have been so utterly foolish! Rum scolded himself harshly, throwing a litany of foul curses at himself under his breath right as he burst into the main hall.

The name of his devious mistress was on the tip of his tongue, his wide, whisky tint eyes scanning the dim room franticly. The wood in the fireplace hadn't been lit for the night, but he could still clearly see the gold colored wool blanket with the cold, last indentation of where his daughter had napped.

Fear clamped in his chest then; icy, two ton dread compressing against his body. His heart somersaulted crazily in fear. Breath refused to flow into his lungs at the sight of the empty cradle. Where was Wren?

For a shocked moment a cry of dismay nearly erupted from his trembling lips, until a glimpse of orange caught the corner of his dilating iris. A bit of Belle's flowing silk shirt hung limply over her, ornate, high backed armrest caught his panicked gaze.

Dumbly, his body trembling with frightening thoughts, he stalked quietly over to the plush, throne like chair of burgundy. He halted his trek instantly as he rounded the chair, truly not certain what to expect. Would she be sitting there in the near dark, with a sick grin of satisfaction across her features, knowing she had been successful in fooling him, or perhaps looking into the dark, coldness of the hearth, her azure orbs lost in thought at what choices she had wrought?

He was all ready to demand the location of his absent daughter when he confronted her. Instead, a small smile bloomed across his sleep mussed features as the former spinner looked on.

Dozing in the chair was Belle comfortably holding the babe. Wren, as well, slept contentedly, sucking her tiny thumb and sleeping protectively on the Dark One's slowly rising chest.


	22. Realization

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing!_

**~8~8~**

Golden beams of early sun showered upon a carpet of lush greenery that blanketed about the estate grounds. For a day in early spring, the air was decidedly warm with cool breezes still mingled with the faintest tingling of winter wafted through the wind to ferry the scents of spring aloft.

Delicate pink and yellow blossoms budded out from the awakening trees in greet of the pleasant day. While twixt the emerald blades, velvet petals of white and lavender dotted intermittently against the jade hued lands.

The entire world had awakened to the glorious majesty of rebirth and life. The ice mourned winters waning, their opaque shards turning into warm waters to splash along the brooklets and streams, while the snow made its slow retreat back into the earth.

Belle couldn't help but grin at the lovely scene set before her. Though the bucolic lands brimmed with the gorgeous life of spring it paled in comparison to the sight of her caring slave and curious baby.

She rested on her side under the voluminous shade of a speckled birch tree watered by one of the meandering brooks cutting through the vast estate as she watched servant and babe.

The trio relaxed upon a soft blue blanket spread about the mat of lush grass. To the side, a brown wicker basket filled with nibbled bread and meat sat forgotten in the spring sun. On such a glorious day it was hard not to wander about the vast land, now free from the cruel grip of winter's skeleton claws.

Little Wren kicked and pumped her tiny legs excitedly in welcome of the grand day outdoor, trying valiantly to move off the indigo wool and off towards the interesting blue jays pecking at the blooming earth diligently for worms and the vibrantly hued butterflies feasting on the abundance of newly bloomed flora.

This world, much like the confines of the gray Dark Castle, was new and wonderful and bright to the ever intrigued baby.

However the child constantly became distracted by her papa, who always proceeded to infuriatingly pull her away from the fringe of the quilt and back to the center of her safe confines of azure when she managed to get close to the stalks of grass.

"You are so young, can barely crawl, and yet you're already trying to sprawl away, my little Wren." Rum scolded mockingly to his daughter in a playful growl. He tickled the bottom of one of her bare feet, making her babble into a fit a gurgled giggles and reach for the cloudless firmament with her eager hands.

"She is an intrepid young thing." The Dark One agreed mildly with a sagely nod as she laconically shifted her eyes from her book to gaze fondly upon the energetic child.

Even though they never spoke of the night she had held Wren and rocked the precious bundle to sleep, mistress and slave constantly thought of it as either a hope for the future or a bad omen.

As much as Belle tried to distance herself from the girl; telling herself no good would come of being close, she found herself helping in smaller chores of caring of the babe, all the while reprimanding Rum for not being able to handle his work and child rearing in one.

It was a tenuous relationship where one moment afforded Belle a gentle moment with the happy, oblivious babe, and the other trying to build a wall of cold aloofness to bar her yearning heart. She was like a swill loving drunkard, hating the brew it craved, and parched for that dragged them low, but continuously running back to the smoky taverns for more of the toxic elixir.

Yet even while caught between cold uncaring and warm tenderness a claw of guilt thrashed what little conscious she had managed to keep for all the years. Though she often blamed her studious servant for being an inept peon, Rum was a good father who did his best for the little Wren in every regard he could. He seemed to know exactly what the child needed simply by its cries or comprehended things that never ceased to baffle the beauty. If she didn't know better, she might have assumed he had been a father before!

Wren burbled a spit bubble while she pawed at an equally as curious lady bug marching along the blanket. Rum could only chuckle, watching his daughter make vain attempts to snatch up the scuttling black and red battle wandering back into its wilderness of swaying grass.

Even from the corner of his eyes he could make out Belle staring over the yellowing pages of her tome to stare at the happy child. A small, endearing grin tugged at her lush pink lips. She was growing fonder of Wren day after day, of that Rum was truly certain though she did all in her power to deny a trifling inkling of that fact.

That fact made him even more concerned with his own emotions. Everyday she opened up to their child more and more, making the…whatever it was feeling he had for his fiendish mistress grow and blossom.

"I'm glad you decided to journey out today." Rum revealed abruptly. His head was still down staring at his adventurous baby girl pounding her fist against the plush fibers of the blanket. "I would loathe for Wren barely to venture out of the Dark Castle."

She did not deserve a fate tucked away forever inside an ominous fortress, staring longingly out the monolithic panes, her wanderlust and sense of adventure aching to traverse the dangerous realms.

Belle snorted in derision as she close her tome gently and laid it aside. "Do you think me one to keep her locked away like one of my many garnered trinkets? To rarely skitter from the citadel, looking pale as a specter haunting the dank halls, terrified of the sun and all who dwell under it?"

"No!" The spinner objected swiftly, trying to wipe the notion away quicker than it sprang. "I only meant she seems to like the sun and the fresh air. It's just that I would think a right for her to wander about the grounds is a privilege you wouldn't often deny."

"Rest assured, your child's freedom to the outdoors is secured." Belle huffed in amusement.

She wouldn't restrict Wren from much. The last thing she desired was for the girl to grow up miserable and resentful of her. No, with all her heart she desired Wren to be happy, or at the very least content.

A smile briefly twitched upon Rum's features at her joculations but it died away quickly. He shrugged easily. "Still, we'll have to put down a few ground rules early, I suppose."

"Ground rules?" The Dark One echoed curiously as she yanked a sprouting dandelion from the ground. Rolling to her belly the beauty crept not far from Wren to dip the golden puff ball end of the weed down for Wren to grasp and smack around like one of her baubles.

"You know, more chores as she gets older, rules if she's ever given leave to go to town, never mentioning who her mother is." He explained as he watched his mistress show a rare act by playing with Wren in front of him.

She only ever played with the child, when she was certain he wasn't watching and no other eyes were set upon them.

All the while, Wren thoroughly enjoyed the attention and play from her usual, hard hearted matron. Her eyes seemed to spark in a brighter luminance when Belle afforded her their secretive playtime and loving words whispered with a voice thick with regret mingled with longing to truly be apart of her life.

Belle's head shot up abruptly, the dandelion forgotten for a moment. Her eyes, once so warm and light as the cloudless sky, darkened into gouts of blue flame. "And who do you think will ever tell the girl I am her mother?"

"Do you think Wren stupid?" He inquired, a brow arched as he once again picked up the struggling babe and reset her back from the precipice of the thick grass.

The Dark One glowered, irked at even having Wren and stupid conjoined in the same sentence. "You know I don't. I often applaud her intellect now. She's bright even for a babe."

"Then unless she is struck blind and deaf, she'll know you're her mother." Rum explained as though it would be obvious. "Her eyes, manners, not to mention magic are all from you. Don't hang on to some false hope she will never put the pieces together."

Some times it was hard to remember Wren had dark magic flooding through her veins. She was sweet and innocent and warm, negating any anxiousness about her. Her cobalt eye belayed a kind knowing, wiping away the fact that a malignance of her mothers heritage that loomed over her like the shadow of death.

Wren would always be seen as some tainted being by those who knew who her mother was. She would be feared and loathed and sought for riches and gain. Her life would be fraught with hardships, simply because of her parentage.

Belle shook her head furtively as she tossed a stray pebble into the swiftly flowing brook. A small amount of water cascaded up, before rippling away, giving the devious Dark One time to think. It was only wishful thinking she had known, but things would be so much easier if Wren were never able to put two and two together. Belle could appear like a kindly benefactor to her slave's daughter; affording her knowledge and caring all with loving Wren from afar.

"Do you think she will resent me?" She inquired quietly, her voice betraying only a hint of trepidation.

She would be the girl's mistress after all. Wren would grow and learn and want for nothing, but her life would be stained and tainted with that once static fact. Her mother would never choose to see her as anything but the daughter of a slave, thereby making her one as well.

An icy shiver clawed up Belle's spine at the much thought. Her eyes stared at the swaying tall grass and racing waters as she imagined such a bucolic day like the one they spent languishing about now.

Wren would have aged to her late teens, a young bright thing, quick with limb and wit. Her eyes constantly sparkling with the promise of danger and adventure shimmered in the spring sun, as she talked and jested with her papa.

She could picture herself, staring at her daughter as she cajoled through the dancing tall grass, bare foot and content with her life at the Dark Caste. The only life she had ever known.

The Dark One could picture a moment where her startling cobalt eyes would drift to Belle's own, and perhaps stare sorrowfully into their sapphire depths. A lurking regret and hope that one day her mother may come out and claim her without the fact being swept under the rugs and spoken to her Papa in whispers teeming with promise in her gaze.

"Do you think she'll understand?" The disturbing beauty finished after long minutes caught in the throes of contemplation. Did she even understand herself?

"Wren?" Rum asked suddenly, his voice alert and strange.

Belle snorted in annoyance, her cerulean eyes rolling. "Of course I mean Wren. What other child have I carried in my womb?"

"No, where is Wren." Rum explained his tone thick with sudden panic and fear. The spinner scrambled quickly to his feet, causing Belle to jerk her head swiftly from the babbling creek and to in his direction.

Indeed the babe had vanished from the protective sea of blue fabric; no where to be seen.

After growing bored with the golden, cotton ball weed, the child had been caressed by the warm rays of day and stolen away to the realm of sleep.

Her Papa, sure of her security in such a close range, and calmed, by the soft rising of her chest as she curled up for slumber in the mild spring sun had taken him off his guard to stare at his mistress.

It had only been a few moments turned away. Now Wren was nowhere to be seen.

Panic such as Belle had never known existed gripped her heart in its icy clutches. Her whole body felt as tough it moved through a morass as she leapt to her feet in a jolt of fear.

Eyes of the coldest, foggy blue scanned the vast landscape of emerald, to no avail of spotting the crawling bundle.

"I though you were watching her!" The Dark One snapped accusingly at her slave, her eyes wild with the dangerous mix of anger and fear.

Rum, usually ruddy features blanched into a pallid ivory gray tint as he turned his head dizzyingly in every direction. A calloused hand ran through his dirty brown tresses betraying his abject worry. "I put her down for a nap. She was sleeping heavily by my side!"

"Well she not there now you dolt!" Belle growled.

Forcing herself to take a deep breath, calm rushed over the beauty as she closed her eyes and focused instead of throwing herself into the wide deceitful arms of panic. She had vast magic, striking a small deal to locate and bring Wren back would be nothing daunting to her ancient prowess.

Beckoning the darkness to her command, Belle felt the knowing scalding burn of her blood boiling with magic and flaring to her tyrannical will.

Something small would do to please the darkness for the trifling bit of magic. A poor farmer who would awake to find his family of seven only cow dead or a princess suddenly turned into a frog and forced into a scum filled pond. The darkness fed off terror and the misfortune and pain of others, making it nearly irresistible for it to deny Belle anything.

A thin line of concentration wrinkled her flawless brow as she began to strike the bargain with the darkness. She tried ordering it to her wish, yet it remained lurking in her veins, tranquil and stagnant like foul marsh water; mocking almost.

It was then she realized the darkness didn't want anything.

The magic, didn't like Wren in the first place, the malignance of the black powers thought her an interruption and a stumbling block hampering its cruel, insane host. No, the powers would not trade anything for the magic to locate Wren. In fact it was gleeful the child was not to be found.

Her cobalt eyes abruptly snapped open full of brimming fear and terror. Rum, though not schooled in the ways of magic, read her face as though the words had been stapled on her forehead.

"I'll take the west side, you take the east." He decided quickly, his tone usually so timid and frightened, full of command and leaving no room for argument.

At any other time Belle would have scolded him harshly for taking such liberty as commanding her to do anything, but now the fear for what had become of little Wren made the fact brush off at wind against her skin and cool her fevered imagination.

If his guidance were to save Wren, she would have crawled on all fours looking upon every blade of grass for the child.

For the next four hours mistress and servant combed the rolling lands along the Dark Castle estate, searching frantically for the missing baby. No brook was left un waded, no stone not turned, no thicket uncombed for the precious baby girl lost to her parents.

It was near evening when the pair met up on the stairs leading to the thick double doors of the Dark Castle. Both displayed frayed nerves, and eyes sallow with fear and despair as they arrived empty handed of the child. What had happened to Wren?

"It's all my fault. I should have never turned my eyes away from her!" Rum lamented, his voice choked with regret and the sting of hot tears pressing against his eyes.

What sort of father was he to loose his little girl! One child had abandoned him and now he had lost the other.

Belle put a consolatory hand upon his drooped shoulder and squeezed lightly to add what little comfort she could. "You are not the only one to blame. We both were watching her. I am as guilty as you."

"But she is my daughter." The timid spinner cried; his hands clenched into twin fist of frustration. "I should have kept my eyes open. I have failed her."

"No you haven't." Belle retorted quickly. Placing her hand over Rum's fist, her other flew to his cheek to gently lift his eyes towards Belle's. She had forgotten how lovely his dark brown eyes were. "You took the challenge to rear her. Accidents happen. We don't know anything for certain yet. It could be she tapped into her magic's somehow, or some place we've overlooked. We will find her." The beauty assured him strongly. With a mirthless snort she added. "And besides if anyone has failed her it's been me. I can't even force my magic to look for her."

Not only had she failed her in that regard, she had failed at being the mother she needed to be. She had failed in her attempts not to care for the child, and she had failed in wanting to be there for Wren.

Rum wasn't perfect, but at least he didn't completely and utterly ruin everything he deigned to undertake.

"You haven't failed Wren. You've been caught between accepting her and shunning her. You don't wish to deny her, but you're frightened at what may come in the future. You want to be her mother; I can see it." Rum placed his hand over hers; comforting and encouraging.

Belle looked away to the darkened fringe of the forest, her head shaking ever so slightly. Having lost Wren did make her want to be closer to the child. Silently she had prayed to any deity that would have mercy on her, that if she found Wren alive and well she would make attempts to truly be her mother not some aloof guardian.

But so far her prayer was yet to be heeded.

"What if…what if I fall short of being the mother she needs? What if I am not adequate in raising a child?" She queried anxiously. What if she managed to ruin her like everything else in her life she had once loved?

"I suppose those are fears that lurk in the minds of all parents." The spinner retorted gently; his whole body aching to whisper comfort and love to the fretful Belle.

With the baby, there hadn't been much time to dwell on the confusing feelings he held for his captor before the birth. Work and rearing Wren had taken most of his thoughts and time. Now he felt the odd emotions warming to his worried mistress. The Dark One was a puzzling conundrum, a woman who had taken him captive and tormented him for months, now felt as though she were his best friend, and perhaps more.

She was beautiful and yet beastly, lovely and horrific, caring and cold. She was the whirlwind that spun him till he didn't know what up or down was and still left him begging for another go upon the disturbing twister.

She was the one woman he loved. The mother of his child.

Quite suddenly, the former cripple wrapped his slaver into a gaping, comforting hug. He was not the only one drained and fraught of despair and tears.

She fell close into him, her whole body fitting into his own like some perfect fit to a puzzle. Her scent of roses was intoxicating, and the thud of her battering heart soothing.

"You will be a good mother." He whispered to her as he dared a kiss on her temple. "I know you will. But hey, they'll be time for all of that once we find Wren."

Belle nodded, fighting back tears as she rose. When they found Wren everything would be different, she would be her mother, not some underlying knowledge in the back of her daughters mind. Rum would be treated fairer and more kindly than before. They would all be together…a family of sorts. And perhaps, Belle dared hope with all her being, it would work.

"Right…of course." The Dark One agreed. "Let's start looking ag-"

She stopped suddenly as a small cry of glee and merriment carried upon the wind.

The pair stood stock still, their ears strained to pin point where the sound had hailed. Their heads turned in the exact same direction.

"Stables." Mistress and servant claimed simultaneously.

Their boots pounded quickly along the winding dirt path as they trekked towards the stone confines. Thoughts of terror or hope spun in their minds as they burst through the doors. Would they witness some gruesome scene or find the babe in some precarious position that would require exact precision to pluck her back to safety.

As they barreled inside, Brimstone stood in the center of the stables, looking sternly not amused and rather annoyed.

In his teeth, was a bit of Wren's soft chorale colored shirt to keep her held up from the hay and dirt scattered floor, while the child herself gurgled happily as though it was some game and spun around inches from the ground.

Her tiny hands vainly tried to grasp stalks of golden straw while she happily dangled there by her small shirt caught in Brimstones teeth.

Even though the horse of nightmare now sported a thick tapering scar along his right flank, the beast had made a full recovery from his wounds. He was still faster the winds of a tempest, but never ceased to 'limp' when he wanted attention or sugar cubes.

The monstrous steed clopped a bit towards the relived pair. A 'does this belong to you?' look flashed in his cinder orange eyes as he snorted the same inquiry.

A spattering of a laugh relief and gratefulness dribbled from between Bell's lips as she plucked the babe up and cradled it tenderly in her arms. Wren merely giggled in mischievous delight as though nothing unordinary had taken place. She appeared unharmed save for a smudge of dirt across her left cheek.

The stables out of all the places! Loosing the child had been an eye opener to say the least, not knowing where Wren was, and being oblivious about her safety and summoned up the mothering instincts Belle had so long fought to suppress.

She would be Wren's mother; she would raise her as her own.

"The stables!" Rum cried in surprise and copious amounts of relief. He shook his head mildly as Belle passed him his, no, their happy child. "Always in the last place you look. I remember the same thing happened to my son Bae when…" The timid spinner paused suddenly, terrified of the words that had inadvertently slipped from his mouth.

All joy was taken from Belle in that one instant. Her brow furrowed in misunderstanding as she stared at him intently. Whatever relief she had once felt flitted away, leaving tense anxiousness in its place. Had she heard him correctly? "…son?"


	23. Regrets

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing, lovelies! Sadly, we've only two more chapters to go before this story is complete. _T_T

**~8~8~**

"Son?" Belle echoed the word again curiously as though it were a foreign term. Her features crinkled in a mix of intense curiosity and indecision whether to be angry or wait for an explanation towards his hastily slipped phrase.

Why had he never told her about a son?

Rumpelstiltskin stood there for long moments as he mentally bombarded himself with scolding and curses towards his frivolous slip of the tongue. Before, when they had merely been crazed mistress and terrified slave, the conversation had never been delved into about family.

There was no need to speak of families lost and relationships sundered, even when they had gotten to know one another better and look behind the masks and deceits to the true persons beneath.

But when Bae had tried to slay them, blinded to everything but raging vengeance in his eyes and mind, he had lost what little nerve he had and left that detail out, fearful of a reaction such as this.

Perhaps he could offer a falsehood, hoping she would silently accept it as that and let his blunder go unannounced. A sharp pain viciously stabbed his conscious at the thought. No, Belle did not deserve to be lied to. They were to a stage where they needed to be honest about life…and their feelings. Despite their fondness each held for the other, Rum knew dancing around the issues they kept secreted away in their heart of hearts, could not have lasted for eternity.

The former mendicant hung his head shamefully to stare at the straw littered dirt; scuffing his boot awkwardly. He hadn't even the courage to look at her as he spoke.

"Yes. Yes there was a son." He admitted in a quiet tone. Shifting Wren into a more comfortable position in his arms the former spinner let a mournful sigh pass his lips. "But I lost him; as I did his mother."

"And you never thought to tell me?" Belle ground out through grit teeth. Her voice was akin to shards of razor ice, cutting at him in their cold fury. Anger, goaded by the malignance of her magic's, had most certainly won the battle raging inside her.

A son, a wife, a family, Belle toyed with the words over and over in her mind, each sending her pain and temper stoked higher in an inferno. Her heart clenched in some sort of ridiculous notion of betrayal. Why had he never told her? Why had he not trusted her with such information?

The former beggar shook his mildly, his timbre thick with regret. "Perhaps at one point, but my nerve deserted me. Coward that I am, I assumed it would never come to light. Now that I had you and Wren, my thoughts were solely for you two. I desired to focus on the now not on my pathetic, grief littered past."

"Yet all those days we spent chatting in the main hall, or in the library talking over cups of tea, you never thought to mention an entire lifetime ago!" The Dark One queried in a roar. Her eyes were ablaze with hurt, betrayal, grief, and rage all flashing in her deep cobalt depths. "What else are you hiding from me? What else are you far too cowardly to admit to my face?"

He hated her surly would be a ready admittance, or that he wished he'd never brought the babe into the world with such a horrid creature would certainly spew from his mouth. Darkness shielded over Belle's heart as she prepared herself for the cruel stabbing words, which would relate his utter loathing of her.

"That I love you." He answered. There was nothing for it now. If secrets were to be revealed, then he determined that was one that had stood in the shadows long enough.

If anything could have temporarily gutted the winds of fury out of Belle, those words certainly did.

The devious beauty reeled back physically, her eyes wide with shock at the admittance. He loved her? She stood frozen in time for a moment, her mind reeling as much as she had done. The oh so simple phrase was akin to a blow to her solar plexus.

And then, in her astounded mind, still teetering in surprise, the truth clicked with a startling clarity.

A melancholic forest, in a coppice of pines and firs with a ivory casket in the center. A curse veiled over a tranquilly sleeping woman and a man who broke it asunder as easily as a hand breaks through the surface of water; all with that once thing - love. James and Snow's, true love had shattered that curse.

Was that why her magic's had been fluctuating so lately? Or perhaps the cause of how Wren had been conceived? True Love; was it responsible for attempting to hack away at the curse so long burdened upon her?

"Y-you're lying." She stammered furiously, trying with all her will to mask her fear. He had to be.

Rum shook his head slowly his brown eyes brimmed with tears, and bottom lip quivered tremulously. "No."

"I'll be the judge of that." Growled Belle as she strode dangerously close to him in her rage.

Before Rum could protest or inquire what she was up to, the flare of crimson magic's encircled her hand.

He tried to scramble away from the sickly powers, his arm wrapped protectively against Wren to shield her from the darkness, but the Dark One gripped him by the front of his blue tunic, making him keep his eyes locked upon her in some fettered, tethered gaze.

"Wh- wha- what are you doing!" Rum exclaimed fearfully, his body tensing for pain or worse.

A coy smirk etched upon the mad sorceress' lips as her eyes seemed to bore into his own and drown his sight in their cobalt depths. "Taking a look into your mind, to find the truth and see what else you've been hiding." She explained vilely.

With that, a blinding flash of white brilliance seared into both their visions, making them hiss and gasp in torment. It felt like looking directly into the sun, their irises dilating and screaming in desperate pain for the lids to close and protect them from the scorching burn.

Belle had only used that particular spell thrice on those she absolutely needed to know their intentions before dealing with them.

In a few moments the blinding radiance mulled then disappeared altogether, giving Belle leave to Rumpelstiltskin's most important and notable inner thoughts.

She heard the horrid dying screams of men and ogres in battle, the teeth grinding clang of steel upon steel and the sickening crunch of bodies being broken and battered under foot. Her eyes witnessed a red sky awash with black hazy smoke, which vomited upward from freshly burned corpses and aflame war banners fluttering embers in the foul, harsh breezes.

In another moment she saw him a destitute cripple, his leg still throbbing and red and swollen horribly in its maimed state, being told by a prim old village midwife that his bitter wife had run off, and then handed him a confused lad of about five crying piteously for his mother.

The next scene had him alone, weeping in a fetid morose of filth and muck with the same brown haired boy walking away.

She saw him alone, on the muddy road that led past the Dark Castle and through the haunted woods and limping in a ragged gait along the cobblestone to bang at the iron banded doors; ready to plead for shelter against the rain.

Again the scene changed to ones she knew as well. Flashes of small smiles and quips and staring at her curiously as though trying to put some piece of the puzzle together darted through her head like buzzing fairies each bombarding her with an emotion.

Another image abruptly drifted in his vision, a time he held in high regard; the night he had held her to stave off the price of her dreams. There was a special reason why this memory was kept close in his mind, for it was the day he knew he loved her and cherished her. She witnessed his kindness, and the fear palpitaing in his chest at her fallow condition. His body kept her warm and safe while his mind whirled in thoughts of the new revelation.

So there it was; the truth of his feelings. Belle saw it wallowing in his chestnut eyes, and the way he held her tenderly close to his body. Despite his ill treatment from her, the punishments, the work, the times he had been forced to bed with her, he still found an inkling of love in his heart that had bloomed for his crazed mistress.

Her heart back flipped crazily in her chest as the realization hit her. Rumpelstiltskin loved her. That at least wasn't a lie, or deception to spare his life.

As more tranquil times whipped along through the series of images, Belle paid no attention to the smaller scenes flitting before in her minds eye. Her emotions were caught in some indecision, not knowing whether to laugh or weep at his truthful admittance.

Darkness and malice suddenly coiled around her heart, as though feeling the strange emotions bubbling inside its hosts, and whispered the danger of true love. She had seen what true love did to curses. It was all a crock. It made people weak, and foolish, and she had been tramping towards its outstretched arms blindly like a lamb to the slaughter.

Yet if she had been drawn to it, could that have meant…? No, she inwardly reprimanded herself sternly with a shake of the head. She did not love him; she loved her power, the only thing she could always rely upon. If she gave into this 'true love' what was stopping her powers from being broken altogether and leaving her defenseless against the many enemies she had wrought?

Her mind was turning over the contemplations when abruptly one last image came into her mind. It was the knight with his gleaming broadsword against Rum's throat. His sadistic grin splayed wide about his face, as his eyes looked upon her slave with a greed for vengeance.

"Hello, Papa." The knight errant spat, and to Belle it all made sence.

The darkness clasped at her moment of shock and weakness, seeing a chance to secure its place in her mind once more. It could not allow even an inkling of true love to stay in its host. The dark magic had to fill her with lies, and fear, and terror to keep her in its enslaved grip for eternity.

The powers had worked far too hard molding her into an insane, cruel monster, and no slave whom she just happened to love with all her heart was going to rip her away so easily!

Belle pulled away from Rum suddenly, breaking the trance that bound them together. Her eyes narrowed in pain as she thrust him back, uncaring that the child was still in his arms.

Rage swarmed inside her like an inferno as the darkness used all its power to lie and instill terror.

"You manipulator." Belle spat at Rum almost as a curse. Her eyes were twin pools of fire and her jaw set grimly, her lips a thin pink line of anger. "That knight was your son! Small wonder you forfeited to tell me!"

"Belle, please you don't understand." Rum stammered hurriedly in fear. In his arms, Wren began to wail in affright as though feeling the dark tension and the power crackling about them.

How could he explain what she saw was all wrong? What could he speak to whisk the anger and mistrust away?

"Oh I understand." The Dark One assured as she slowly neared him like a stalking predator. Her fingers flourished mockingly though the air. "This was all some sort of elaborate plot conceived by your son, or was this all you? You planned to come here, get my guard down, and then slay me when I'm at my weakest! At the last minute, you decided you finish the job alone and had me rid you of your son, so you could have all my luxuries for yourself!"

Rum shook his head, too horrified to speak. His mouth refused to work of its own volition. He saw the murderous glint in her cobalt orbs; he knew she meant to slay him for what she conceived as treachery.

"Yes." Belle insisted manically. Padding closer to her slave, her eyes lit in a mad luminance. Her daughter's cries hit another octave but she paid no heed. "That was it all along, wasn't it? Find my weakness and slay the beast. Get the entire castle, my spoils, and the endless prestige of your deed. You've even got a brat with magic now, to pander to your every whim!"

"It's all a lie, Belle!" The former spinner pleaded desperately. "I never conspired with Bae; I never plotted for this child to be born, I have never wanted your power or to bring you low. I love you; that is the only crime I am guilty of. Why can't you see that?"

A feral growl escaped Belle's lips as she grabbed the spinner and slammed him against the stables cold stone wall with an unholy strength. Hot tears welled in her eyes, though she didn't seem to notice. Her voice was laced with fury as she roared at him. "Because no one can ever, love me!"

She meant to kill him then and there, Rum knew instantly. Just by the crazed look simmering in her tear misted eyes, he was certain of it. As for little Wren, her fate seemed to be the same; caught in the tempest of her mothers unbridled, mad wrath.

Clutching his daughter protectively, Rum clamped his eyes shut, waiting for darkness to over take him; hoping at least she would make their end swift and painless as possible.

For a moment, Belle simply stood there, the magic, coercing her to rip his heart out or slit his throat. And as for the girl, well, she could magic her off to anywhere and leave her there for the elements or ravenous beasts to deal with.

Though the magic, whispered, tempted, demanded their deaths for his 'trickery' Belle remained prone, staring hard at him and caught in indecision.

Abruptly, her grip and magic loosened and fell away from the spinner like it had never been. Rum slowly pried open his eyes, shocked at her rare clemency. Even Wren seemed to feel the magic floating away for her cries of terror stopped to only quibbling sniffs instead of shrieks of fear.

"Go." She ordered hollowly, and pointed to the stable door and beyond to the forest. "I free you. You are no longer my slave or my captive. Be gone if you value your life."

The spinner blinked in astonishment before his feet began to move. He felt detached from is body as though it were all simply a dream where he had no power. After all that had happened, for one slip of the tongue, what could have been was crashing into ruins.

He tried to keep his head down and scrambled away, but forced himself to stop at the last second and turn back to her. A mournful pleading looked etched upon his features as he demanded his body to retract its steps and face her eye to eye. "You could have had happiness. If you would just believe that the entire world wasn't out to get you and that some one could love you for who you are. You claim to be the most powerful woman in the world, but you are the weakest."

"That's a lie." Belle growled, her arms crossing in challenge.

"No, it isn't you could have had the power to trust, to believe, to admit your love." He stated assuredly. "But you're afraid."

Belle turned her body away from him, her amber hair swaying as she shook her head in protest. "I don't love you, Rumpelstiltskin, nor am I afraid. It's quite simple you see, my magic means more to me than you or that brat ever will."

"I could always see past your masks, Belle." Rum reminded her in a gentle retort. "I saw, I know the truth, even if you choose to deny it. But one day you're going to regret it. Regret not saying it, not living it. And in the end, all you have is an empty heart."

His voice was fraught with heavy emotion that hitched in his wobbling throat as he finished. Tears welled in his eyes, but he forced them back. With that he turned and began to walk away.

Belle swiveled her head slightly to watch him leave, her heart aching inwardly, but showing nothing on her composed countenance.

As he treked away, he shifted Wren again so that she rested against his shoulder. Her bright azure eyes looked back happily at her mother as they departed from the only home she had known.

Her tubby hands reached out to grasp Belle, wanting her mother to take her in her arms and play. The babe, so young and innocent stared in childish confusions at what was happening; not realizing she was leaving forever.

Unable to stand the sight, Belle used her powers to ferry herself way into the darkest, dankest section of Dark Castle to hide from the light of day and the image or her servant and daughter departing.

~8~8~

Alone. The air whispering through the tapering cracks and drafty corridors of the Dark Castle seemed to echo the singular, piercing word. Alone. Indeed the entire citadel felt bereft of life or feeling with out little Wren's squeals of happiness or cries of hunger, and Rumpelstiltskin absent humming whilst he toiled.

No breathing, save her own could be heard, no movement, or thudding of boots against the stone. No warmth, no cherishing smiles, only death and quiet as it had been before Rum had wandered upon her boring estate.

Belle found herself wandering along the maze of corridors like a specter bound to haunt the stronghold. The darkness inside her which preened with modest approval of finally getting rid of the nuisances of slave and daughter did nothing to balm the gaping hole in the Dark One's chest.

Her heart felt as though Rum had torn it out before he had departed. The last confused look of her daughter's sapphire orbs while they pulled away stared back at her every time she closed her eyes. She had to let them go no matter how miserably the fact in stung her.

Her love, her… family, all gone to preserve her power; such a cold, dead thing. Even at the thought a sob choked up from the beauty's throat. Closing her eyes, she attempted to fight the scalding sting of tears, but there slave and daughter were again in her minds eyes, walking away forever, because she had chosen her power over love.

A cry tore raggedly from her throat as Belle numbly slid down a wall to sit upon the floor. Tears brooked down her pallid cheeks while her heart twisted in a vice. "What have I done?" She lamented sorrowfully.

Why had she lost her temper? Why had she been so afraid of his admittance of love? Why couldn't she have said the same, when all her heart once desired to burst with the knowledge? Why did she bow and submit to the darkness inside?

And now it was too late. He and their girl where gone.

"You stupid beast." She growled angrily at herself. "Stupid, worthless, weak coward!" Belle snatched the dangling, brown tassels of the ornate tapestry behind her, yanking it hard to send it crashing to the ground.

A cry like that of a wounded animal wrenched from her lips as she leapt up with fire dancing in her eyes. Her fist collided with an ancient vase upon a pedestal sending it crashing into a thousand shards. She kicked over a set of golden plate armor, to let it tumble into disrepair.

Her anger and grief knew no bounds. Every object she came into contact with suffered her wrath of anguish. Artifacts were ruined, furniture broken, rug sullied, windows of antiquity cracked and shattered, murals tarnished. Nothing was spared in her rage and torment of soul.

Hands bloodied and bruises, Belle wandered into her library, the one sacred sanctuary of her home. Her chest heaved in heavy, wracking sobs, eyes blinded by the wet of tears as she burst through the door. Her library, her most precious possessions all accumulated into one place.

They meant nothing now. Pieces of literature, worthless and aging into a time no one cared to recall. In some way it seemed odd to her that she had enjoyed this quiet repose at all.

The Dark One screamed in her agony tossing books off their neat perches. Pages flew through the air as she tore them out, bindings and leather backed covers soared across the room. She decimated, blindly and without purpose, she wanted to hurt as she had been hurt and as she was hurting inside. But it wasn't enough. In truth, it felt like nothing would ever be enough to mend her shattered heart.

Twitching her wrist, the fiend conjured fire into the hearth she had read by for so many years. She wordlessly gathered her arms with tomes she once held so dear; heading for the blaze to watch the papers crinkle and curl and crumble into ash to mirror her soul.

She nearly made it to the blaze, when her foot kicked something askew. Her head turned down to spy another item to destroy only to stop dead in her tracks.

The books tumbled numbly from her grip as she fell to her knees in shock. Their usual tea set still sat where they had left it earlier that day lay in it normal place.

The white and blue ceramic kettle and cups still lay where Rum had rested them that morning. A wide smile was on his lips as they drank their tea from their respective cups, and talked about the day, and her suggestion to leave off the chores and wander outside.

Her hand trembled as she tremulously grasped the chipped cup Rum always drank from. Long ago she had given Rum the tea cup he had chipped when she frightened him in their first encounter.

She hadn't even thought of it when she had bestowed it upon him, but he always used it when they shared a nip of tea.

The chip along it gilded rim, once sharp, had dulled to be quiet safe to drink. His use had inadvertently shorn away the jagged edges, just as he had done to his volatile mistress.

Belle picked up the cup, rocking it gingerly in her hands as though it were some priceless treasure. Her thumb pressed hard against the chip until she felt blood spurt from her digit against the dulled edge and stain the blue and white ceramic red. Rumpelstiltskin was wrong when he said all she'd have was an empty heart. All she truly had was an empty heart and a chipped cup to remember him by.

She was a fool to have let him leave. Anger had prompted the darkness to toss them away as though they were nothing, when in fact they encompassed her entire world.

"I loved you." She whispered hoarsely. Her eyes burned, in sorrow wanting desperately to weep, but she had no more tears to shed.

Holding back another sob, her lips pressed against the chip in a tender kiss. No, she couldn't take him not being there, she would find him and they would work something out. Perhaps it would not be the life they wanted, but it would be something, rather than the throbbing ache of pain of being absent from the other.

Abruptly a dull thud pounded against the door, instantly making Belle's heart lurch as if some hand had viscously yanked it. Her head jerked up in surprise and the well spring of hope bubbling anew.

Could it be Rum? Could he too have decided he wanted, no needed, her as much as she need he?

Oh it simply had to be! Belle though joyously as she flew down the stairs in a blinding flurry. She could imagine him standing their now with Wren in his arms, determined to fight to stay, to work out what they felt.

It would be different, she promised. She would welcome him back at the Dark Castle, a free man, a friend, a companion. She would get on her knees and piteously beg his forgiveness if that's what it took.

They would rear Wren together, and they would be happy; so happy!

A smile bloomed widely upon her tears stained features, as Belle's hand curled about the iron ring attached to the door. With one monumental tug she let it yawn open. It had to be him; he must have felt the same being so far away!

"Rum, I'm sorry for what I said. I'm-." Her words tapered to a halt as the moonlight overhead revealed, not a weary servant carrying a small sleeping child, but a maliciously grinning, brown haired knight in plate.

"Not _Rum_." He corrected mockingly, a smirk of victory marbled upon his trimmed features. "Baelfire."


	24. Heartache

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! Wow, only one more chapter to go!_

**~8~8~**

After anxious months awaiting expectantly in the queen's castle, Baelfire could scarcely believe he stood upon the ominous threshold of the Dark Castle once more.

Before the queen had come to his timely aid, he had been wrathfully fuming as he cursed Belle, his papa, and himself, all the while thinking of the tortuous months it would take him to get back to the looming palace and slay his knave of a sire.

His hunger for vengeance had grown fallow in the queen's land whilst they diligently played the waiting game. His muscles constantly itched to swing his blade into his father's gullet and craved to witness his life's blood pool at his feet in a puddle of gore.

He felt akin to a panther caught in a tiny cage without room to move, and yet the desire to stretch and run fevering through his heart.

Such fervency burned so hotly through his veins, the night before, he had planned to cut away his ties with Regina and their bargain, forged of mutual hatreds, and set off again to the Dark Castle on his own to finish what he started somehow, someway.

Suffice to say he was more than rocked, when the queen's guards had been ordered to fetch him promptly to see her majesty. For a moment he feared she had used her magical prowess to look into his heart at his treachery to abandon their pact.

He had strode in with a ready excuse, but the utterly wicked seemed not to have a hint of his plot to break their bargain. She stood, in sheer onyx silk of a nightgown clinging fittingly to every curve of her lithe form as she related the ecstatic news; Rumpelstiltskin and the girl he had sired, were trotting dourly along the path of the haunted woods alone and without Belle to watch over them!

Behind her a tiny flock of ravens with magical, piercing ruby eyes pecked at their midnight plumage, giving Baelfire some clue as to how she had discovered such good fortune.

Blood roared in his ears as his heart thrilled at the wondrous news. No more would they had to scheme and wait like rats scampering in a sewage hole, his vengeance could be wrought in moment with the aid of her magic to ferry him to his craven of a father.

Ah, but the queen had other plans. She wove a cunning scheme that involved taking the Dark One's heart and thoroughly devouring it after he had done the deed and slain his loathsome father.

Blinded by the lust, the starving hunger for blood, he excepted before the words had finished slithering from her supple, crimson lips.

"You…" Belle growled lowly like the dangerous snarl of a wolf. The lunar disk nestled in the black satin heavens glinted off her twin orbs, turning them almost burnished silvery blue in her wrath.

A forced calm over took the beauty as she willed her body not to slay the knight where he stood, or transform him into a weak pathetic creature to squish beneath her boot heel.

He seemed no better armed than before, with merely his mail armor, polished and the silver links repaired, his sword hanging from his hip, and a black leather satchel slung carelessly across his shoulders.

His beard of dark brown had seen a razor at some point between his last murderous rendezvous at the Dark Castle. Now cut off, it made him look more like his father to the point; Belle wondered why she hadn't seen the resemblance in their first encounter.

He perched a bushy dark brown brow incredulously. "Surprised to see me again? I would be too, seeing as though you teleported me a swamp in a humid, murky, far away realm." His voice rumbled dangerously at the memory, but he recovered to look cocky and confident once more. "Luckily, a kind witch managed to aid me in getting back close enough to continue my eternal journey in seeking my father's utter demise."

Dark ruby magic abruptly flared to Belle's hand as she thrust it out, inches from Bae's still smirking, clean shaven features. Any phrase with death and Rumpelstiltskin all in one, made her temper flare insurmountably.

Her teeth ground together, clenched in a vice of anger. "Obviously you didn't learn the first time I sent you heaven knows where. On this turn, however, I have all my magic's at hand and won't be so lenient upon you."

"You know." Bae began in a slight, maddening chuckle, not caring in the slightest about demise so close. "I was thinking just that as I was coming back to finish what I started with my cowardly sire. My mind was diligently pondering how could I slay the Dark One, now that she would be ready for such an attack, and how would I penetrate the confines of her sinister citadel once more. I thought of what traps might await my return, what fiendish beasts you have to lay in wait of those that trespassed into your realm."

Just by the malicious flash of victory sparkling in her mud brown depths, a pit of terror and anxiousness involuntary plummeted at the bottom of Belle's queasy gut as he continued lackadaisically.

"Storming through the haunted woods, my mind was burdened with these troublesome thoughts. But what a relief fell upon me when look who I see walking through the darkened glades, carrying a squalling child." His smirk blossomed into a full blown grin as he nodded slightly.

"Yes, I couldn't believe my luck at first either. I thought it some cunning deception at first, an image merely conjured to taunt me and drive me to the brink of madness, but no. Here was my sire and his shrieking bastard tramping wearily along down the path; defenseless, vulnerable, without their all powerful mistress to be their guardian." His smile widened again as though it would stretch from ear to ear as a harsh depraved laugh barked from his throat. "After recovering from my shock and praising my sudden turn of good fortune…" The next words he spoke rolled off his tongue like an expensive wine he was still savoring. "I killed them."

Baelfire could still see the image clear in his mind. The orange red, dusky light of day settling, the brats shrieks echoing off the towering plaintive trees, and his sire trying desperately to calm the girl as he strode cautiously through the forest.

The coward was probably looking out for bandits and rogues, searching to take what little they had.

He could summon up the intense look of terror in his father's whisky brown orbs, and the pathetic attempt to plead for clemency and reason and fight off and protect the squirmy child in his grasp all at once; clearer than it had been when he'd done the deed.

His hands tingled in giddy pleasure as the knight recalled finally grabbing a fistful of his fathers dirty brown hair and barbarically yanking his head back to expose his unprotected neck. The sickly sound of the blade breaking through the flesh, and cords, and tendons of his neck had been akin to the finest tune in all the realms.

For Belle, it was the second time three words had made her keel backwards. Rumpelstiltskin's testament of love had been the first, and now the knowledge of his supposed demise made her reel as if struck upon the jaw by an iron fist once more.

Her chest clamped achingly, her thudding heart wrenching and twisting relentlessly in a wringing vice. For a moment it seemed as though grief would drown her and pain would devour her whole.

Fighting back the abject agony, the Dark One shook her head steadily to call back reason to her suddenly stunned mind.

It had to be a deception, why would he come back into the maw of death to gloat over such a deed? Was he insane to think that knowledge would give him some sort of all controlling power? Did he actually have a death wish?

"You're lying." Belle snarled viciously, forcing herself not to believe his words; telling herself it was the illusion of a man driven insane and delusional by revenge.

Bae's gaze narrowed perceptibly in a look that was so much like his father's it made the beauty's heart lurch in another reminiscent pang. "Am I?" He retorted in cruel inquiry.

Turning to his satchel hug at his side, the knight errant casually flipped the knapsack open. The foul stench that wafted up from the inside of the leather made Belle's stomach churn in disgust, and want to dry heave at the vile whiff assailing her nostrils.

"Proof." Baelfire assured simply as he pulled a bit of cloth from the bag and brought it to the luminance of the sparkling moonlight.

Belle could not contain a strangled, horrible cry as she saw what he held in his mailed grip. Wren's small shirt, drenched in dried, crusted dark crimson blood, and wrapped in its folds a shriveling, rank heart.

Time stood still for the Dark One. It seemed like a nightmare that she could not force to rouse herself from; only the night, and the items before her were all too real.

Her hands numbly moved to take the soft woolen shirt limply from his grip; hoping praying it could be the wrong one, beseeching any deity that the still heart could not be Rumpelstiltskin's.

The blood soaked upon the fibers had dried the small tunic rather stiffly, so that any move made crusts of crimson rustle to the floor like clotted ruby snowflakes. And as for the heart, the sickly iron odor of blood that had pumped through the aorta was still heavily prevalent.

The fibers, the texture, the very design of her daughter clothes were spot on. It was no falsehood. The shirt had been the exact one Wren wore when she had banished slave and daughter from the Dark Castle. It even still had the indentation of teeth marks where Brimstone had held it by to keep her off the straw littered stable floor.

"I took that off her after I slew that cur Rumpelstiltskin, and managed to hack out his heart." Baelfire proclaimed happily. The knight practically swaggered and preened with his victory as he gazed at the cloth almost like it were a trophy.

Nearly offhandedly he remarked. "Let's be clear though, the blood on that shirt is only minutely your devilish spawns. Most of it is my sires. When I ran my blade though the tendons of his neck, he fell forward in some last pathetic attempt to shield his child."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "She ended up suffocating under his corpse and drowning in his blood." Bae related gorily; loving every moment of his oral rendition of their cold, savage murders. "After the cries had stopped and I was assured they were both good and dead, I decided to carry those two tokens along as proof. The starving wolves were already coming around by the time I managed to yank the heart free, but I daresay if you leave now, you may still find a dark splotch of blood along the trail."

Silence prevailed for what seemed like an eternity between the knight and the Dark One. Baelfire, brimming with his malice fill achievement, and Belle numb with tremulous shock.

Her limbs felt as though ice replaced her blood and froze them stiff, a part of her was surprised she was even remembering to breathe what sharp gasps of agony she could inhale.

Her little Wren, her curious daughter, her wonderful child dead. Her Rum, her companion, her only friend, her…love, struck down by a hateful son.

If the knight had suddenly unsheathed his blade and moved to run her through at that exact moment, Belle wouldn't have resisted him in the slightest. That, however, only lasted a split moment, before the true beast, fully and without one spec of restraint finally reared inside the legendary Dark One and came bounding out with hellfire in her eyes.

A cry, almost like that of a dragon's wounded roar bellowed from her mouth as she lunged at the knight. Baelfire, not surprise by the reaction, but taken aback at the sheer ferocity stumbled backwards, his hand shakily fumbling for his sword hilt.

Fiery wrath blazed in her cobalt orbs, strands of her maple brown tresses wisped in the zephyr of magic coiling around the beast, her breath came out in hard pounding heaves, magic crackled off her skin like lightening.

Baelfire had expected her to be angry, murderous, and insane, he had not comprehended her to become…that.

And where was Regina? The knight errant thought in panic whilst he tried his best to scramble away from the rabid Dark One. She was supposed to be watching out for the moment Belle went mad with grief, to spirit him away to safety. She was supposed to scoop him up and deny the disturbing beauty the satisfaction of slaying her child's and lover's killer.

Yet here he still remained in arms reach of the furious Dark One.

He finally managed to awkwardly get his blade free; just in time to parry a swiping blow from the Dark One.

Even as his blade managed to deflect her swing, crimson magic swarmed over his blade like a multitude of ravenous ants rapidly devouring the sharpened steel.

A cry of terror burst from his throat as he dropped the hilt, which was beginning to be eaten by the magic, and ran for all he was worth.

"Regina!" He cried hoarsely, desperately to the tranquil night air as though she were invisible. He stumbled a trifle, but lurched and managed to keep on his feet whilst he lumbered across the estate at a dead, jangling run. Fear, true unadulterated fear, pierced his mail covered body. "Regina, help!"

The only reply that came where crickets serenading in the night. She wasn't coming, Bae realized with a panicked clarity. In his blind lust for vengence, he had been duped by her promise to help.

Who knew, she could be watching him now and having a good laugh over his stupidity in believing that she would come to his aid.

Regina. The name resonated around Belle like a vibration of vile intent. Its sordid moniker crashed upon her with a cold clarity akin to an icy wave.

She suddenly stopped chasing the knight who was scrambling for the fringe of the haunted woods. Of course Regina had something to do with it!

She had to have been the one to transport Baelfire back; the 'kind witch' as he had put it. She had to have known that Wren and Rum where in the woods. She had to have a plan of some sort to aid her lust for revenge to all the realms.

Belle saw it then, right as the knight crashed heedlessly into the thorn ridden undergrowth. He was little more than a distraction. Bait for a rage blinded dragon, as it were.

That witch allowed him access to kill his papa and his half sister, then the privilege to rub it in Belle's face, probably with some assurance or deal that promised his safety from her wrath.

Yet Regina never did something for nothing. What motive could she-?

The curse. Of course the curse. Divert the Dark One's full grief stricken attention away from her baubles and castle, that no one else would be stupid enough to delve into and snatch away her coveted curse.

The grieving beauty could picture Regina's infuriating little smirk at the knowledge the slave and the girl were dead, and Belle's heart crushed by the man the foul harpy had brought back from his banishment.

For a moment, Belle nearly, very nearly forsook the consideration about the curse to exact revenge on Rum's murderer. She certainly did feel the pain, Regina had spoken of before. If you couldn't have happiness, then the temptation to ruin all others was very coaxing indeed.

The Dark One stood there in indecision, go where her temper greedily wanted to soar, so that her rage could rip the knight to shreds, or stop Regina…

~8~8~

The heavy, ragged panting of the knight was all that could be heard in the dense glades of the haunted forest. Sweat cascaded down his body, dampening his mop of curly chestnut hair and soaking through his cloths as though he had been dipped in a lake.

He had long ago abandoned his mail armor, to run at a faster pace, always afraid the furious Dark One was breathing right upon his neck to seek vengence for the deaths he had so cruelly dealt.

The thoughts of being slowly tortured by her hands had given strength to his exhausted limbs, but now even that source of adrenaline was drained wholly from his quaking body.

A huge exhale of breath flew from his lips, as Baelfire finally forced his aching limbs to a halt and slumped in a heap at the trunk of a towering oak. His body greedily sucked in dewed air, as he forced his heart to slow its thundering pace. The Dark One wasn't upon him yet, with magic's and torment.

Had he truly outran the Dark One?

A sputter of disbelief and ridiculous laughter of his narrow escape erupted pathetically from his lips at the thought. Could it be true?

The darkness about him hid his victorious, somewhat relieved grin as he closed his eyes and his head laid back upon the tree as he tried to think of his next move. He could return to Uther's realm and retake his place as a knight of the round table. There he would trully and utterly be Baelfire, bereft of a pathetic past and churl of a father.

A wide smile crept joyously to his sweat stained features. Life was good.

"Did you think I would just let you go? Did you think I grew bored of chasing you?" A voice stated suddenly. It was even and controlled and thickly drenched with malice, scaring the knight more than the fury of the familiar tone ever could.

His eyes popped open in trembling fear to see a shadow of the darkest purest evil and malice and hate looming over him akin to a psecter of death. He tried to scream, to beg for mercy, but found he had no air in his lungs...

~8~8~

"Oh Belle, you and your unbridled temper. You should have known better, old friend." Regina mocked aloud with a piteous shake of her head as she held the contract of the curse out in front of her like a prize.

The wicked monarch had spent a good thirty minutes chuckling in victory and relief once she had transported herself to her palace, with the curse she had so long desired in tow.

The Dark One was so easy to manipulate! Let her go on a chase for the man who had slain her heir and slave, while she nipped into the castle and did the one thing no one would ever dare to do to Belle - steal.

Of course, Belle would be along shortly, after she tortured the revenge driven knight to nothing more than a gory slop heap of blood and pummeled flesh, to reclaim her contract, full of rage and indigence and wrath and perhaps bestow some sort of revenge, but she couldn't take what was about to be used.

Yes, Regina expertly combed through the ritual in her head. All was prepared; the sacrifice had been gotten from her poor father, the incantations all in place to wash the curse over this world. And what's more, she had finally scored the last laugh with Belle!

She could have had her stupid slave and daughter, but no she had to hold out the curse for some sort of vaunted new blooming love she was beginning to feel for her servant.

And now, Regina could not contain a sinister cackle at her own cleverness as she strode determinedly out her vaulted dark iron palace gates to the forest where the ritual was to take place, she possessed everything the Dark One cherished.

Her men, all clad in black plate, saluted in a sharp military fashion as she tramped briskly inbetween their ranks. They knew their queen had won, and they would be rewarded for their loyalty of betraying Snow and conspiring with the fairest woman of them all! The foul harpy toyed with the contract in her grip as she smirked to her warriors, giving them free leave to flower her with their chants and praise.

Of course, Regina had not been without her price to pay. The only sacrifice the dark magic would except was the last thing she had cherished; her father, Henry.

A piercingly, sharp sting of regret and mourning stabbed at what little was left of Regina's black heart. The price was a hefty one, but just the thought of Belle, weeping uncontrollably along with her everlasting torment and regret, mingled with the misery she would beset upon James and the infuriating Snow White, her own grief was dampened in light of her victory.

The cheerful roar of her men seemed to echo what blared like a bonfire in her cunning mind.

She had finally won!

~8~8~

Belle could feel the tingling magic of the curse in the apex of the warm spring night. The trees swayed and rustled in disquiet with the winds of change and the entire realms seemed to quiet in expectation of such puissant powers.

Gray thin clouds lit by the pallid moon in the velvet black firmament looked as though they were scudding away from the magic about to be enacted upon the world.

The Dark One watched the land from her open window of her potion room, feeling the cool magic encrusted wind swirl about akin to a fall breeze. Magical aromas of sickness and sweetness and ruthlessness and ferocity and every other sort of magic their world possessed flitted through the air, that night as the scent of honey suckle drifts upon a summer wind.

She had only gotten back to the Dark Castle recently; blood still warm and dripping from her bare hands and smeared liberally across her grief worn face. The beauty slumped down to the stony ledge of what might have long ago been considered a window seat as she stared out at the moonlit expanse of forest and beyond to the velvet horizon.

Everything was in place, she knew sufficeintly. Her blood stained fingers scrawled little stick figures on the cleaned window as though caricaturing what the rulers of all the realms where doing at that exact moment. The kingdoms were rallied in expectation of the curse, and their last hope had been born only a few moments earlier.

When she had used a minute spec of it to send Baelfire to a different realm, the fairies, and all things magical had been alerted to that magic. The kingdoms had long prepared, in case the curse was ever cast, and now their fears were coming to light.

She could see it in her minds eye now. The queens and kings and guards and nobles were scrambling; trying with all their might to get things in accordance for their one hope. James and Snow would be hurrying frantically to get their child in the safety they had built to protect their daughter. A small baby girl by the name of Emma; the only one who could break the curse that was about to barrel down.

The fairies, useless things that they were, had placed a blessing on the child, a blessing that the Dark One allowed to be a weakness to the curse and even aided in its potency, but in secret when everyone was far to busy to notice the black shadow skirting the walls like a malignant stain.

And now…A sigh fell from Belle lips as she heard the first rumblings of the powers crashing thorough the air like ominous thunder. In the east a rolling cloud of billowing amethyst was heading her way, devouring everything in its voided shrouds.

Now was the beginning of the end in getting revenge on Regina for the life of her love and daughter.

Clutching the bloodied shirt, in her equally as bloodied grip, upon which rested the rotting heart, tears rolled silently from the beauty's eyes. They were gone, but Regina would pay. Her penance would be a thousand times the agony she had cruelly bequeathed upon the Dark One with her cunning schemes.

A brief ghost of a, sorrow ridden half smile twitched weakly at the edge of Belle's lips as she noted to herself Regina should have been quicker in stealing the curse, before the Dark One had time to tamper with a few clauses.


	25. Fin

_A/N: Well, here we are, the last chapter. Read at your own risk. Ha, I kid. XD. Thanks for reading and reviewing!_

**~8~8~**

Icy sheets of cold driving rain plummeted to the earth in a gray silvery curtain, which veiled Storybrooke in it morose sheen. The hard, fat drops rapped incessantly against the fogged, rose stained-glass windows of Annabelle French's Storybrooke law firm.

Annabelle French, Attorney at Law, private owner of half the town and business' of the little back woods hamlet watched the tears of water patter and slowly slide down the steamed, misted pane.

Annabelle was her name in this land without magic, but most whom she dealt with simply called her the heartless shrew. That moniker was only behind her back of course; she had far too much power to be so blatantly insulted to her face. Even the Madame Mayor knew not to cross her too often, for even in this world, the Dark One was not to be taken lightly or toyed with like a pretty imbecile.

Using the sleeve of her frightfully drab, navy blue business suit, the lawyer, wiped a part of the fog clear of the glass to peer outside.

What few people were caught in the frigid deluge, were running about frantically for shelter to escape the rather, suspicious and sudden downpour.

Briefcases, paper, and even boxed lunches were over head of those eagerly trying to weed out shelter. They ran back into Granny's little diner across the street, a workshop owned by the friendly Marco, or a series of other family friendly business to laugh and chat and wait out the rain, but none dare even began to venture to open the door to her establishment. One does not knowingly wander into a dragon's lair.

As if reading her thoughts, the solid black cat languorously reclining on the adjacent window sill meowed a lazy comment and closed its odd orange eyes once more to dive back into the realm of sleep.

"Yes, I know you wouldn't mind going into a dragon's lair, Brimstone, but keep in mind you are not a horse any longer." Belle chuckled mildly at the teasing reminder.

Brimstone, now the black tabby, shrugged carelessly in reply and hopped down, with his long sinuous tail slithering in the air; wandering to go sleep somewhere where water wasn't so frightfully close.

Belle could only smile fondly at the still prissy animal, no matter what form, and turned back to the window.

Very soon the little patch of sidewalk and street she could see was all but deserted of human life, save for one pitiful wretched thing that could only be loosely termed a living soul.

A man bundled up in a pathetic series of patched jackets of all hues and makes profusely strewn with holes sat shivering by a damp cardboard box that was turning into pulpy mush as the buckets of rain besieged the earth.

His thick, tangled, and matted beard covered most of his dirty face, save for his mud brown eyes; one of which was misty and milked over and always rolling about in his head like a foggy brown marble in his eye socket.

Deep, thick, and pinkish raised scratches and scars viciously and profusely trailed and crisscrossed his battered face, and the crooked nose perched at the very center of the messily marred human flesh had been broken at least twice so that it seemed akin to a jagged precipice of a cliff ledge rather than a nose.

Just by looking at him it was obvious he had once been very fit and strong and agile with muscles and sinew. He might have even been handsome at one point, but that had all deteriorate and fallen into phthisis thanks to hunger, leaving him a flimsy skeleton with flabby, disease mottled skin stretched taunt over a rack of bones like some macabre drum.

He was being eaten away on the inside, by three different types of incurable diseases, which constantly fevered his body with torment and racking, blood flecked coughs.

Despite all this, the most prominent injury on his malignant body was his right leg; twisted and mangled, as though a bear had torn it to shreds long ago.

The bone contorted and healed in a painfully awkward angle. The muscles burned and ached, every time he dare move the maimed appendage or his once shattered and never fully mended knee.

Many people only knew him as Basil the insane cripple; the homeless so utterly deplorable in his attitude and actions that not even the kindly nuns would not take him in. Yes, though this world dubbed him Basil, Annabelle knew him by the hateful name of Baelfire, the murderer of Wren and Rumpelstiltskin.

As though feeling the burning hatred of the attorneys cerulean eyes locked savagely upon him, the vagabond turned his head warily in the direction of her business.

Seeing the intense cobalt eyes staring back at him, the cripple wasted no time in abandoning his sorry remnants of a box he had fished out of granny's dumpster and scrambled away at a tortuous hop limp, which sent him often crashing into the mud washed earth.

He knew how much Annabelle French hated him, though he never knew why. All he could comprehend was that she never resisited a chance making his pathetic existence even more tortuous than what it was now.

Once she had even gotten drunk and stumbled upon his agonized form sleeping on a slab of sidewalk. After making the discovery, she then proceeded to beat him and deliver a series of stiletto puncturing kicks to his flesh; rambling and sobbing with scalding tears racing down her cheeks.

The bruises, which always seemed to sting more when they were delivered from her, that night long ago reminded him among other things to keep his distance no matter the cost.

Belle allowed herself a slight chuckle at the sight of the pathetic waste of flesh lurching away like a frightened deer in the sights of a starving wolf. She would get the sheriff to pick him up for loitering after the storm was over, to add one more mark on his mile long rap sheet, and allow him to have a meal of the horrid jail grub.

She couldn't have him dying on her just yet, no his torment would not end so mercifully as the sweet release of eternal sleep.

And neither would Regina's she noted. Her brief smirk disappeared into a hateful frown merely at the thought of the harpy; the woman who plotted and aided the murderer to take her only family away.

Oh but after 28 years the ground she had fallowed and sewn with the seeds of revenge so long ago were beginning to come to their peak and ready for an ample harvest.

A woman named Emma Swann was in town, fetched from Boston by her true son, Henry. The boy whom Regina had adopted, with Belle's infinite aid.

That was all by Belle's guiding hand of course. The lawyer just so happened to find a child for the lonely Regina who just happened to be the birth so of the only one who could rip the curse asunder, and therefore begin to pry the weakness intricately place in the curse out.

The loophole in the contract, so minute, Regina had missed it in her preening, victorious pride, was there now in Storybrooke, and had taken the advantageous position of sheriff with the promise of staying for a spell.

The curse could be broken, and who else would it be shattered by but the daughter of her hated enemy Snow White.

Irony was indeed a delectable dish, Belle chuckled humorously to herself. The justice in that felt nearly like honey on her tongue.

Turning away from the window, the beauty, padded towards the bullet proof glass door with her name and practice engraved upon the glass in crimson letters and put up her normal 'be back later' sign.

A sigh fell from her lips as she pulled the blinds down and slowly strode to the back room of her locked office where no one, under any circumstance, was allowed.

The inside was dark and gloomy save for a window covered with a flimsy blue drape filtering in the gray light and an antique Tiffany lamp. Few treasures were to be found in her office vault, which was arguably safer that the vault at the Storybrooke first national bank!

The most important trinkets, spared from the curse rested in the back room where no one had seen it but herself for all of 28 years.

Taking a seat in the only steel chair in the room, Belle flipped open a thick mahogany steam trunk and began rooting through it slowly and diligently as she roved through her thoughts.

Yes, Regina would pay for what she had done all those long years ago. She thought she had won, but that was all part of the ruse.

Belle allowed her to win; she allowed for Regina to wake up in this life as the all powerful mayor, she allowed the harpy to think herself unbeatable, unconquerable. And now, at the absolute height of her rule, she would watch it all burn to ashes.

She would watch her little empire nestled in the back woods of Maine crumble before her very eyes, and stand fettered and powerless to halt its destruction.

Her eternal enemy would fall back in love with her soul mate, Charming, and though the imperious harpy would try to rip them away, nothing would wrench them apart this time.

Slowly, like a knife cutting through her skin to peel back her flesh, Regina would witness a revolt of her enslaved subjects. Though they seemed not in name or action that was truly what they were; laboring ants under her iron heel.

Emma Swann would be their daringly brave liberator and would take the wicked queen to task, blow for blow, cunning for cunning, determination for determination and though they would seem equally matched Miss Swann would constantly take the day in victory one way or another causing endless infuriation and more carelessness emanating from Regina.

Then, as certain as the sun rising in the east, Regina would come waltzing around to Annabelle's firm, trying to slyly procure a deal, or have use of her talents as a lawyer, or as an underhanded business woman.

That part had already occurred, with Regina desperately wanting to know how to rid herself of the irksome Miss Swann before the frayed threads of the curse could be cut completely.

She had been outraged to find the clause in the curse and demanded to know the reason for such a ridiculous thing.

Yet she knew before the words let spew from her mouth why such a flaw was woven in.

Rage so hot momentarily overtook Annabelle that she fought the urge to slam and pitch her balled fist against the few precious trinkets surrounding her at the memory of a few days go.

She could see Regina's little irksome, infuriating smirk as she used a finger to swipe a line of dust from Belle's 'university' diploma she had nailed to the wall.

"You're still mad about that little misunderstanding, Annabelle dear?" She scoffed and rolled her eyes though her teal orb glinted with savoring cruelty and malice. "He was only a slave, and the brat a worthless bastard. I assumed you would have gotten over them by now."

How Belle had nearly killed her in that moment, but the always preening toad seemed not to comprehend how close she had nearly invoked her own demise so prematurely.

Only the pleasant thoughts of the fate that awaited Regina as the curse constantly became unwound day by day had stayed Annabelle's hand from reaching under her desk and unloading a clip of bullets into the wicked queens pallid hide.

Of course, after Regina had learned of the fallible terms, she hadn't been too dispirited; she was certain her cunning would win the day despite Belle's attempt at sabotage of her regime.

And yes, there would be a moment where she thought she would in the end be victorious as she always dreamed. A desperate plot would be hatched, using the last thing she loved from the old world, and just when she thought it had finally given her the edge it would ultimately be her utter undoing.

That had happened only brief hours before. Poor Henry was now lying in a coma in the hospital and Emma and Regina running about like chickens with their head cut off, trying to come up with something to save the child's life.

Belle of course had sent them scampering on a wild goose chase, that would look to end in tragedy for both, then arise as a victory for Miss Swann.

Then, a grim smile etched wickedly upon the Dark One's lovely features as her mind wove through the next current of events that would hopefully take place, then Regina's folly would be known and she would feel the abject endless void and ache of what it was like to loose a child she cherished.

And in the end as her body was being flayed and branded and scourged by the angered masses awakened by the curse, with her son that she truly did love clinging to his birth mother looking on, happy and also hatful of his adopted matron, she would know instinctively what it was to loose everything she had ever loved and just how hard a blow she had struck upon the Dark One those years ago.

Just as the harpy played the puppet strings of ripping away everything the Dark One had chanced herself to care for and cherish, she would see first hand what horror she had wrought upon her heart

A soft click snapped from the secret bottom on the chest, making a small compartment door hidden cunningly in the side of the mahogany trunk pop open, and in turn yank Belle away from her contemplations.

Somberly, reverently almost, the beauty slipped her trembling hand inside. Pulling out she brought forth the blood coated fabric with the heart still wrapped in its stained fibers. Magic held these things in everlasting memoriam, just as the first day she had grasped them.

Tears of shameful regret never ceased to well in her eyes at the sight and remind her of what Regina had done to tear her happiness away and grind into dust, and her folly in sending them away.

Slowly putting her hand back into the secret cubby, the beauty brought out a vile repugnant liquid bubbling in a crystal vial. Her eyes scanned the poison almost covetously as she licked her lips like it might have been the finest wine.

Once the foul harpy was brought low, the Dark One would soon join her love and child; the poison was quick and would be just the trick in swiftly taking her from the world of the living.

A day never went by where she didn't think of her Rum and child, or the dull ache to be with them. Every night they danced in her dreams and every morning she awoke thinking she heard the sound or Wren crying for breakfast or squealing in delight and the murmurs of her Rum tending their daughter.

"It's almost over." Belle whispered tearfully towards the bloodied shirt and heart; the last remnants of her family that could have been. "We'll get her soon; Rum, then I'll be with you and Wren forever."

Her thumbs traced little circles on the fabric as she wept mournfully. The tears turned crimson as they plopped upon the blood stained cloth. "I hope you forgive me for what I did."

But she knew better. She had laid their death warrants. Forgiveness was about as hopeful as Regina suddenly giving up her game of ruler ship and laying down to die.

Abruptly the bell above her door jangled merrily alerting the lawyer to the presence of others. Rage rumbled in her chest at the intruding sound. Of all times to be disturbed! Could people not read a simple 'be back later' sign with a cardboard clock attached?

But then again, so used to only having desperate clients, and none of which who would enter with such a sign on the door, she hadn't locked her establishment in the daytime for many years.

Using all her will, the beauty banished the tears back as she delicately placed the items back in their compartment and locked them away for safety.

She had to stop being Belle for the time being. Wiping the last vestiges of tears away and put on her cunning, evilly implicated grimace, it was time to be Annabelle the heartless to those who had stupidly wandered in and ruined her daily repose.

"H-hello?" An insipid, male voice echoed about the front of the firm.

A growl churned in Annabelle's throat as she stomped angrily towards the front office. She would have a good tearing out of the lout who had intruded when the sign clearly said no one was there!

"Can you not read?" Belle snarled viciously, to frighten the poor sod. She hadn't reached the front yet, but decided to give the intrepid soul a good scare. "It said be back later! Why I should sue you for breaking and-…" She paused, her breath snatched away in utter shock at the sight before her.

It couldn't be…It literally couldn't be possible.

Rum, with little Wren in his arms.

He looked exactly the same as he had the day he had been banished from the Dark Castle, his long, dirty brown hair, warm brown eyes, though fringed with weariness.

He wore a dark gray Storybrooke correctional facility buttoned shirt, with his prison number on a strip of white by his heart that he tried to cover up.

Wren looked the same as well, though her pink clothes were a bit disheveled. Always curious she looked about as though the place was just a new section of the Dark Castle and a new adventure.

"I'm sorry I don't mean to intrude. Are you Annabelle French?" The man who looked so very much like Rum stammered warily.

The poor, lanky creature looked prepared to smash right through the door and bolt away if she snapped another word at him.

Annabelle's mouth moved slowly, trying to reply, but for long moments no words would form. How could he have been alive, after all this time?

She saw Wren and Rum every day, staring back at her in the mirror, silhouettes of their shadows dancing upon the walls, whispers of their voices, but never had she seen them so clearly, so real.

It had to be some trick, some last ditch effort to convince Annabelle to help gather up the frayed threads of the curse and patch them back in order. But then, where was Regina if it was her so called plot?

She took a cautious step forward as though any sudden move would make them disappear like frightened rabbits back down their holes. "Rum…?" She finally managed to say in disbelief.

"Rum?" He echoed confusedly through chattering teeth. The former prisoner shook his head. "If Jefferson contacted you before I arrived then I'm afraid you misheard. I'm Ray Gold and this is my daughter Robin."

Rum and Wren, Ray and Robin now… alive? What cruel elaborate taunt was this, to break her heart all over again? Yet, Anna couldn't help but believe, to be drawn to them, though she assumed they were some figment of her crazed imagination or an extra bit of magic Regina had spared for a rainy day.

She expected to touch his shoulder and her hand to drift through then his body to curl and wisp away as smoke pawed away. Yet when she finally prodded up her courage, his cold, rain soaked cloths were as real as her own.

"You're real." She whispered awed, squeezing a bit to thoroughly confirm his presence. It was not magic, but muscle and skin and blood. Her hand then went to Wren to touch the child on her grubby pink cheek. "You're both real." She turned her face back to Rum, from her daughter, her cobalt depths swelling with tears of joy. "You're alive."

In that moment, if a heart could burst with utter jubilations, Belle's did so. She didn't care about the how or the why, only that they were. Her arms wrapped around her Rum; careful of the babe who squealed in delight and grabbed at her russet tresses.

The sopped rain water soaked through her expensive suit, but she cared not in the least. She could have held on to them forever thanking whatever turn of fate had revived them from the grave and set them on the path before her.

Ray backed away unsurely, his eyes belaying a loss; confused about the one person all the other inmates whispered as ruthless was now breaking down into tears at the very sight of him and his little daughter.

His brow knit furtively at his as his mind tried to dredge up a memory of her that seemed to be just skimming below the surface of his brain. "I'm sorry, have we met before?"

As though answering her father's own question, little Wren reached out her ever grasping hands towards Annabelle, her eyes holding remembrance and knowing that her papa did not. "M-m…ma…ma." She gurgled happily. Of course she was going to remember. She was her mother's daughter; magic raced in her blood as well.

Rum flushed fiercely at his daughters limited vocabulary that only knew 'papa, but as far as he knew had never said 'mama'. "I'm sorry for that. She's been in foster care while I was in prison; I suppose that's where she picked that up being handed from home to home all over Boston."

Had it been any other person who had come through the door with the same plight and a curious daughter, Annabelle would have inwardly laughed and found hefty amount of amusement in their curse veiled mind. For nearly thirty years no one had aged as life went one, save Henry, and no one seemed to notice.

"It's quite alright." The attorney assured him with a soft smile and ruffled Robin's dirty brown tresses. Fighting the urge to ask, no, beg him could she hold her daughter, the beauty turned her attention to more important matters. "How did you find this place?"

How did you find me after all these years, was what she desperately wanted to inquire, but he had no knowledge of her or that past life. Here he was Ray Gold, convict and by the looks of him, not freed by the legal means in anyway.

A sigh fell from his lips as Annabelle proffered him to a plush seat so they could speak. Just as Ray sank weakly into the burgundy leather armchair, the black tabby came waltzing inside the main office again, hearing familiar voices he had not heard in many years.

The feline gazed at the two easily and purred warmly, as if to say 'oh look those two again' and retreated back to its comfortable cubby; totally nonplused in the slightest, but secretly delighted by their return.

Adjusting Robin in a more comfortable position in his arms, the prisoner dove right in to his tale. "A man named Jefferson came to my solitary confinement cell and released me. I followed him a secret route outside, where he handed me my daughter." He paused for a moment and looked down tenderly at the child.

"After that, he told me to find an attorney named Miss Annabelle French; he said you'd protect me. He also said to give you a message, 'you have to end this madness'. To be honest I have no clue what it mean, but he said you would understand." He halted again; his face wrenching with sorrow and pleading. "Please, I can't loose my little girl again. I can't go back to prison."

"What were you convicted of, if I may query?" The lawyer asked curiously gentle. What would Regina have termed his incarceration under?

The newly released convict turned down his head ashamedly. "I couldn't purchase formula for my daughter, or afford anything to eat. I got charged with failed attempt at breaking and entering a mansion near the outskirts of town."

Annabelle nodded understandingly though in all actuality it was a begrudging nod toward Regina. If there was one thing the harpy knew it was bitter irony to taunt her foe.

"I know I did wrong, but it felt like decades I was stuck in that solitary confinement." Ray continued. "All for a breaking and entering charge. I thought I might have been locked in there forever or they lost my case file." He shuddered at the thought and looked back at her beseechingly, as though she were the last hope on earth. "So you will protect us?"

Protect them as she should have done in the first place, Belle thought inwardly. The very thought stabbed at her soul like a poisoned dagger, nearly making her flinch.

"With my very life." Anna blurted meaningful, unable to blink back the tears this time. She could still barely believe they were in front of her alive and well. They had been hidden and kept from her probably as some last ditch insurance policy from the cruel toad Regina.

Ray cocked a brow curiously at her. "You still haven't answered my question from before. Do we know each other?" It seemed like he vaguely recalled her, but perhaps that was only do to a few snippets he caught here and there by passing inmates about the hard as nail lawyer.

Another pang stabbed in Belle's heart, as she had to scold and remind herself, this was Ray and not Rum; not yet.

The russet haired beauty shook her head somberly and brushed the hot tears from her cheeks. "No, but you will. Soon, I promise. But first, there is something I must do." She stated abruptly, a wicked glimmer in her azure eye.

Opening the drawer beneath her desk, the lawyer brought out a shining black 27. MM pistol. She held the weight of it in her palm, imagining ti was Regina's black heart. That witch would pay for all she had done.

Ray's eyes went wide with sudden fear as he clutched Robin closer to his body. What was she going to use that for?

Stashing it into her leather, ruby purse, she silently stood up, smiled warmly, and beckoned the wary and shocked inmate to follow. Seeing no other recourse, the ages old spinner rose and warily trailed behind a woman he had known so long ago.

~8~8~

Regina was sure to be here, Annabelle assured herself as her sleek car rolled to a wet stop outside the Storybrooke hospital. Henry would have already taken a turn for the worst and everyone was probably already lamenting the poor boy's unexpected fate. Oh but all was not to be lost, for Emma at least.

Regina had not only ripped the Dark One's heart out and crumpled it into ashes, but for all those years she had been inwardly laughing at a Belle's stupidity not know her child and love where quite alive and miserable.

That fact would not go unpunished.

Ray had said nary a word in the long drive, but had sat in the passenger seat, looking at her curiously and holding his daughter protectively away from the gun tucked away in Annabelle's crimson leather purse. He didn't ask what she was to do with it. In truth, he didn't want to find out.

This Annabelle French was a strange woman, looking hard and cruel and corrupted, then when she turned to them looking soft and warm mingled liberally with regret. He felt as though he should know her, like he had always known her, but for the life of him, nothing of the past would resurface.

"You're not going to be hurt and you're not going back to prison." Anna reassured him, as she followed his eyes to the gun concealing purse. "I own this town. I once beat a cripple half to death, for stealing a tea cup, in broad day light and no one dared even call the authorities."

Ray blanched at such admittance, making the lawyer smile fondly at him. Same old Rum to the last. He would be at least once all was said and done.

A slight ripple of wind brushed past the car as Annabelle switched off the vehicle and opened the door, but she barely noticed it as more than a slight warm breeze. Now that she had Rum and Wren, nothing mattered. Regina would pay in spades, even if it did heavens knew what to the curse.

Yet while she may not have paid any heed to the zephyr, Ray felt the tingling sensation of magic gust past his figure. The fair wind was like a blow to the head as pictures and time began to swarm in his mind and flow like a river melted free of winter ice.

He remembered being banished and waylaid upon the road by the evil Regina and her black clad minions and how she had conjured doubles in their places and took Wren's shirt and ripped the heart out of one of her men and stashed it into the magical double of Rumpelstiltskin. He remembered his daughter being born. He remembered first being fearful of his unstable mistress then falling in love with Belle, the Dark One.

"Wait." Rum stated almost numbly, just as the chestnut haired lawyer grabbed her purse and was beginning to step out of her car on her way to seek long overdue justice.

She didn't dare turn back to him, fearing another bout of tears, and the aching regret that stabbed her once more. "Don't worry, I'll be quick." The beauty promised before starting to move again.

"Belle, wait." Rum echoed again, his hand gently on her arm.

The Dark One paused as though frozen. Had he…? She fell limply back into her seat, turning to his smiling face. "Rum?" Belle broached warily?

He only nodded in reply.

There were so many questions spinning in their heads, but Rum shook them all away as he touched her cheek tenderly with his calloused hand. "I…I remember."

The words were like a knife stabbing in Belle's heart. What did he remember? His unjust banishment, her lies, and her punishments she so cruelly flayed upon him, her anger?

She wanted to beg for his forgiveness, but the prisoner continued. "I…I love you." He claimed whole heartedly with a watery smile.

"Yes." Belle finally managed to stammer through disbelief and happiness. After all this time, after everything she had done, he still loved her! Her arms wrapped around him in a vice hug, like she would never let him go. "Yes and I love you, my Rum. I'm so sorry. All I said, I never meant it, and I thought you were dead and…and…"

Rum held her close stroking her hair tender. "It's alright now. Belle, my Belle." He whispered. "We're together; all of us."

"Oh there is so much I want to ask you, so many words in my heart that I cannot speak." She exclaimed through racking sobs.

Blinking back the waterfall of tears slowly, she looked back to the hospital where half the curse had been broken, then back to her Rum.

Regina would get her full torment in the end once the curse had been fully broken. Ending her life now would be a mercy, and though Belle was many things merciful was not amongst them by no stretch of the imagination.

And besides, the Dark One still had so much to learn in what had happened. How had they survived?

Rum grinned through sparkling tears of his own. "They'll be time for that. They'll be time for everything now that we're together again." And this time, Rum promised, he would not go so easily again. If there ever was an again, he would fight to his dying breath.

Belle felt shame tighten in her chest. She had no right to his love or their daughters after all she had done. After all her stupidity she should have been spat on and cursed. "I don't deserve forgiveness; not from you or Wren. But these years bereft of your presence I had time to learn and grow and reap the regret of my temper. I want us to be a family; a part of your family." She turned her head away. "If you will accept me."

"Belle." He whispered quietly in a tear strangled reply. His lips neared hers as though drawn to them, hers drifted to his own. "I already forgave you a thousand times over." Rum stated gently just as their lips met in a tender kiss.

Warmth radiated from their lips pressed together in an all consuming kiss that bound them in blood and fire and reunion.

The kiss barely lasted three short seconds before little Wren giggled joyously and pounded her tiny fists at them. The pair parted, laughing merrily and nervously all the while as they turned to their interruptive baby daughter.

Outside, the sky had cleared from the clouds to a deep azure hue and people were beginning to mill about in confusion with their memories regained. The Dark One gazed perceptively out her windshield before turning her car back on, and flashing Rum another soft smile.

"Storybrooke will be in turmoil very soon, but for now." She laughed and gave her love a kiss on the cheek. "Let's have this time together. We'll go back to my, our, home."

Rum chuckled at a thought as the car revved to life and began to roll away. "I'll have thirty years of chores to catch up on, won't I?"

The beauty almost yelled out a panicked 'no'. He was no longer a slave or a prisoner of any type, but a second later she realized by his scruffy crooked smile, it was a jest. "No, but we do have other things that are long over due." She retorted with a sly grin that he returned ten-fold.

"Of course, mistress." He replied as he took her free hand and kissed it in a gentleman like manner.

Belle smiled back as him, as they journey to her mansion on the fringe of the awakened Storybrooke.

Totally, finally, a family.

Fin

**~8~8~**

_A/N: Wow, just thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review. I usually reply back to the comments I can, but if I missed you, or couldn't, let me just inform you guys are awesome. This had to end fluffy. I am a happy ending kind of gal at heart (Some times) though I do like twisting people's hearts along the way! I greatly enjoyed the challenge of writing a role reversal and I hope you enjoyed it too!_

_Much obliged,_

_-Eyeslikedawn :3 _


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